HENRY 

M.- 
HYDE 


THE  UPSTART 


Thank  you  for  helping  me." 


THE 

UPSTART 


BY 

HENRY  M.   HYDE 


NEW  YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO, 

TQO6 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Published  October,  1906 


THE   DE  VINNE    PRESS 


OLIVE    ORCHARDS  FOR  BOBO 


222S412 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  Thank  you  for  helping  me  " Frontispiece 

PACING  PAGE 

"  Tracing  imaginary  cruises  over  all  the  seas  "...  8 

"  In  front  of  Aunt  Bridget's  box-car"  ..„-..  26 

"By  Gott!  I  teach  you  a  lesson" 128 

"Men  and  women  of  Liberty  County!  " 214 

"Here  it  is,  yer  Honor !" 250 

"  Then  suddenly  he  took  her  tightly  into  his  arms"    .  288 

"  Presently  King  Anders  came,  closely  followed  by  his 

six  sons " 314 


vii 


THE  UPSTART 


THE  UPSTART 


THE  boy  was  lying  on  the  low  bank  of  the 
crooked  little  prairie  creek,  the  shallow 
channel  of  which  cut  off  the  Main  Street  of 
Liberty  from  the  fat,  black,  farming  country 
beyond.  His  bare  feet  almost  touched  the 
oily,  brown  water  and  his  face  was  buried  in 
his  arms,  which  were  crossed  over  the  gnarled 
root  of  a  willow  tree.  His  slight  figure  was 
shaken  at  intervals  by  half-suppressed  sobs. 
Now  and  then  he  raised  his  head,  brushed  the 
tears  from  his  eyes  with  a  torn  blue  gingham 
shirt-sleeve  and  looked  about  him  defiantly. 
He  feared  witnesses  of  his  unmanly  weakness. 
But  the  early  August  twilight  had  been  kind 
to  him.  Already  the  gray  shadows  had  half 


4  THE  UPSTART 

hidden  the  whitewashed  shanties  of  Kill- 
grubbin,  that  were  scattered  irregularly 
over  the  brown  mud-flats  about  him.  To  the 
left  the  yellow  light  of  a  smoky  oil  lamp 
shone  dimly  through  the  open  door  of  a  green 
box-car,  now  retired  from  the  vicissitudes  of 
an  active  railroad  career  and  raised  up  high 
on  stilts  to  do.  permanent  duty  as  a  dwelling. 
On  the  other  side  grew  a  tangled  screen  of 
yellow  and  green  willow  shoots,  beginning  at 
the  very  edge  of  the  water  and  turning 
inward  in  the  shape  of  a  half  crescent.  Black 
and  white  pigs  were  rooting  in  the  mud  of  a 
narrow  lane  which  twisted  about  among  the 
shanties  and,  a  little  farther  off,  a  slatternly 
woman  was  throwing  bits  of  driftwood  at  a 
marauding  goat  that  had  ventured  to  invade 
her  cabin. 

To  the  ears  of  the  boy  came  the  hiss  of 
geese,  marching  up  in  long  lines  from  the 
river  to  their  night  shelter,  and  the  occa- 
sional raucous  hoot  of  a  switch  engine  in  the 
railroad  yards  which  separated  Killgrubbin 
from  the  village  of  Liberty  proper.  Nearer 
at  hand  sounded  the  voice  of  a  shantytown 


THE  UPSTART  5 

virago,  answering  the  drunken  profanity  of 
her  husband  with  shrill  reproaches. 

When  the  boy  raised  his  head  he  could  look 
over  the  railroad  track  up  the  long  stretch 
of  Main  Street,  along  which  the  prosperous 
people  of  Liberty  lived  in  trim  wooden  cot- 
tages, setting  far  back  from  the  roadway, 
each  in  its  own  shady,  well-kept  lawn.  At  the 
far  end  of  the  street  the  red  disc  of  the  sun 
was  dropping  behind  the  elms.  In  the  middle 
distance  the  white  bulk  of  the  Grecian  court- 
house loomed  vaguely. 

IN  the  soft  mud  of  the  bank  behind  the  boy  a 
red,  flat-bottomed  skiff  landed  noiselessly. 
Out1  of  the  boat  stepped  a  thin,  wrinkled  old 
man,  with  a  dark  face,  a  hooked  nose  and  a 
pair  of  sharp  gray  eyes  under  bushy  gray 
brows.  With  one  hand  he  dragged  after  him 
a  long  string  of  slimy  black  cat-fish.  As  he 
left  the  boat  he  caught  sight  of  the  boy  and 
stopped  short,  pursing  his  lips  contemplatively. 

"Well,  Pat,"  he  said  sharply,  "you  missed 
the  biggest  ketch  o '  the  season. ' ' 

The  boy  started  up. 


6  THE  UPSTAET 

''I  took  twenty-four  off  the  set  lines  and 
one  of  'em  's  a  mud  cat  that  '11  weigh  ten 
pounds  or  I  'ma  sucker.  Hed  your  supper  I ' ' 

"Yep,"  answered  Pat,  getting  to  his  feet. 
"Aunt  Bridget  give  me  some  grub."  He 
walked  over  and  "hefted"  the  big  fish. 

"  Gee ! "  he  said.     ' '  That  'n '  is  a  whopper ! ' ' 

"You  come  right  along  with  me,  Pat," 
said  the  old  man  with  a  shrewd  glance  at  the 
swollen  face,  * '  and  we  '11  go  on  a  vyidge.  You 
c'n  carry  th'  fish." 

The  old  fisherman  and  the  small  boy  walked 
a  couple  of  hundred  feet  down  the  curving 
river  bank  to  a  knoll,  where,  safe  above  high 
water,  stood  a  curious  structure  of  driftwood 
and  refuse  lumber.  Its  roof  was  little  higher 
than  a  man's  head,  but  it  stretched  back  for 
forty  feet,  like  a  section  of  a  tunnel.  In  front 
of  it  was  a  little  platform,  supported  on  piles 
over  the  oily  stream,  to  reach  which  it  was 
necessary  to  descend  the  bank  and  then  climb 
a  ladder  of  six  steps. 

"Climb  right  up  on  the  bridge,  Fust  Mate," 
said  the  old  man,  turning  to  the  back  of  the 
cabin,  ' '  while  I  open  the  hatch. ' ' 


THE   UPSTART  7 

The  boy  climbed  the  ladder  and  sat  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  platform,  his  feet  dangling 
over  the  water.  Presently  the  old  man  reap- 
peared, opening  a  narrow  door  from  within. 

"Haul  up  the  ladder  and  come  into  the 
cabin, ' '  he  said. 

In  the  center  of  the  long,  box-like  room  and 
from  the  low  ceiling  hung  a  miniature  ship 
in  full  sail.  "Annie  B."  was  lettered  across 
the  stern.  At  one  side  was  a  narrow  bunk, 
built  up  three  feet  from  the  floor.  On  a  shelf 
opposite  perched  a  curious  object  which  its 
owner  was  accustomed  to  refer  to  as  a  mer- 
maid, though  a  shrewd  observer  might  have 
suspected  the  body  of  a  weazened  monkey, 
skilfully  attached  to  the  tail  of  a  big  cat-fish. 
The  smell  of  the  place  was  tarry  and  nautical. 

' '  Come  right  through  into  the  chart-room, ' ' 
said  the  old  man. 

Even  small  Pat  had  to  duck  his  head  to 
pass  through  the  little  doorway  which  led 
into  this  curious  apartment.  Its  long,  low 
wooden  walls  were  papered  with  lithographs 
and  pictures,  cut  from  the  illustrated  week- 
lies, showing  ships  at  sea  and  all  manner  of 


8  THE    UPSTART 

nautical  scenes.  Among  them  was  a  biblical 
engraving,  revealing  Jonah,  in  a  long,  red 
night-gown,  about  to  be  swallowed  by  a  yellow 
whale  not  more  than  half  his  own  size,  and  a 
somewhat  scandalous  poster,  displaying  a 
brown  South  Sea  maiden,  attired  chiefly  in  a 
bunch  of  green  seaweed  and  a  string  of  coral. 
Across  the  wall  hung  a  whaler's  long  harpoon. 
The  whole  was  garnished  with  dried  starfish, 
sea-horses,  curiously  colored  shells  and  fans 
of  coral. 

On  a  box  in  one  corner  rested  a  big  brass 
compass,  and  on  another,  in  the  center  of  the 
room,  stood  a  large  globe,  with  a  telescope 
and  other  mysterious  brass  instruments  lying 
beside  it. 

The  place  and  its  master  seemed  strangely 
misplaced  there  on  the  bank  of  a  muddy  in- 
land creek,  in  the  midst  of  an  Illinois  prairie, 
a  thousand  miles  from  salt  water. 

The  old  man  dre^y  the  globe  close  up  to  the 
narrow  bench,  which  ran  along  one  side  of  the 
room,  and  fell  to  tracing  imaginary  cruises 
over  all  the  seas. 

"Cap'n,"  said  Pat,  as  the  sailor  paused  to 


"  Tracing  imaginary  cruises  over  all  the  seas." 


THE   UPSTART  9 

break  a  piece  from  his  twisted  rope  of  tobacco, 
"kin  I  bring  Tom  Hahn  down  here  some 
day?" 

"Look  here,  Fust  Mate,"— the  old  man 
turned  on  him  sharply, — "have  you  been  talk- 
ing about  our  vyidges  1 ' ' 

"No,  I  hain't,"  the  boy  answered  indig- 
nantly. "Outside  I  always  call  you  *  Paddy 
Mack,'  like  everybody  does.  And  I  've  never 
spoke  of  the  'Annie  B.'  to  anybody.  But  I 
wisht  I  could  bring  Tom  down." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  slowly,  a  far- 
away, reflective  look  in  his  eyes.  "I  'm  an 
old  fool  to  take  any  chances,"  he  muttered, 
speaking  to  himself.  "It  ain't  fair  to  her." 

"  You  ain't  goin'  to  git  mad  at  me,  Cap'n?" 
said  the  boy,  starting  up  anxiously.  "I  '11 
never  give  nothing  away.  Here!  Let  's 
shake  on  it." 

The  Captain  looked  up  and  a  slow  smile 
of  tender  affection  illumined  his  rugged  face. 
Impulsively  he  took  the  boy's  dirty  fist  in 
his  own  gnarled  hand. 

"Shake,  then,  shipmate.  Some  day  I  '11 
tell  you  why  nobody  must  know  I  'm  an  old 


10  THE    UPSTART 

sailor.  I 've  got  my  reasons.  Ten  years  I've 
lived  here"— he  paused  and  looked  about  the 
cramped  little  room— "and  you  're  the  only 
human  's  ever  put  his  nose  inside.  It  's  a 
long  cruise  I  'm  sailin'— an'  there  ain't  no 
home  harbor  at  th'  end  of  it." 

The  old  man  seemed  to  lose  all  consciousness 
of  his  present  surroundings.  His  deep-set 
eyes  looked  past  the  boy  into  the  years  that 
were  gone— or  was  it  into  the  future?  A 
deep,  slow  sigh  escaped  him. 

"What  's  the  matter,  Cap'n?"  asked  the 
boy,  half-frightened,  his  freckled  face  re- 
flecting the  trouble  of  his  friend. 

"No thin',"  answered  the  Captain,  briskly, 
throwing  off  his  preoccupation  with  an  effort, 
"nothin'  's  the  matter.  I  was  jest  thinkin' 
it  's  worth  consid'able  to  a  lonely  old  skipper 
to  have  a  Fust  Mate  he  kin  tie  to,  that  's 
all." 

Clearing  his  throat  loudly,  the  old  man  got 
up  and  bustled  about  the  cabin  to  conceal  his 
agitation.  Finally  he  struck  a  light  in  a  brass 
ship's  lantern,  drew  the  globe  still  closer  to 
the  bench  on  which  the  boy  sat,  and  put  a 


THE   UPSTART  11 

gnarled  forefinger  on  its  surface,  just  where 
Cape  Cod  stuck  its  green  nose  into  the  yellow 
ocean. 

"We  sail  from  Bedford,  as  usual,  Fust 
Mate,"  he  said,  "and  lay  our  course  a  little 
east  of  south  so  's  to  stay  in  the  stream. 
It  's  yere  second  vyidge  as  my  Fust  Mate. 
We  Ve  got  plenty  of  grub  and  water  and  a 
crew  of  twenty.  Bounding  the  Horn"— the 
forefinger  traces  the  path  of  the  ship  on  the 
globe,— "we  strike  a  nasty  gale,— you  recol- 
lect that  night? — but  the  'Annie  B.'  's  stanch, 
and  in  three  months  we  're  sailing  the  South 
Pacific  with  a  man  in  the  tops  looking  for 
sign  o '  whale. 

"Eight  down  here— midway  to  the  Fiigis— 
we  sights  a  coral  island.  Six  of  the  men  goes 
ashore  looking  for  water  and  greenstuff. 
Late  that  night  the  long  boat  comes  back  to 
the  ship,  with  nobody  in  it  but  Pedro,  a 
Portugee  sailor.  Pedro  says  the  other  five 
are  captured  by  the  niggers  and  tied  up  in  a 
row  to  the  palm  trees,  while  the  fat  brown 
king  and  his  warriors  and  women  dance 
around  'em.  When  Pedro  got  off  with  the 


12  THE    UPSTART 

boat  they  were  getting  ready  to  bile  and  eat 
the  hull  bunch  of  'em. 

"I  was  mighty  glad  then  I  had  n't  let  you 
go  ashore  in  command  of  the  long  boat,  like 
you  wanted  to.  A  nice,  juicy,  tender,  young 
Fust  Mate  would  n't  'a'  stood  no  show  at  all. 
Most  likely  they  'd  Ve  et  you  alive  jest  to 
work  up  a'  appetite." 

The  Captain  paused,  a  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
to  let  the  joys  of  the  situation  sink  home.  The 
boy's  face  was  shining.  "And  then?"  he 
urged,  breathlessly. 

"Pedro  says  they  's  more  than  three  hun- 
dred niggers,  armed  with  spears  and  bows 
and  arrows.  They  're  camped  along,  the  shore 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  island. 

"We  're  getting  a  reskying  party  ready 
when  one  of  the  crew  comes  up  from  down 
in  the  hold,  where  he  's  been  sorting  and  pack- 
ing a  lot  of  dried  fish.  When  he  steps  out  on 
the  dark  deck,  somebody  gives  a  yell  and  we  all 
turns  to  look  at  him.  He  is  shining  all  over 
like  he  was  on  fire  and  when  he  waves  his 
arms  he  looks  like  a  Fourth  of  July  pin- 
wheel  in  full  blast. 


THE    UPSTART  13 

' '  The  sight  of  him  gives  me  an  idee.  Twelve 
of  us  men  strips  to  the  skin  and  rubs  each 
other  with  that  phosphorescent  fish.  Then 
we  lies  down  in  the  long  boat  and  four  of  the 
crew  rows  us— with  muffled  oars— round  to  the 
other  side  of  the  islamd,  leavin'  you,  in  charge 
of  the  ship.  We  kin  see  the  niggers  dancing 
around  the  fires  on  shore  and  hear  them  yell- 
ing and  we  're  afraid  we  're  too  late  to  resky 
anything  but  cold  vittles.  When  we  git  in 
pretty  close,  the  hull  dozen  of  us  nekid,  but 
able-bodied  seamen,  stands  up  in  the  boats  and 
gives  a  yell.  Then,  with  a  pistol  in  each  hand, 
we  jumps  overboard  and  starts  for  the  nig- 
gers, firing  a  shot  at  every  jump  and  looking— 
I  make  no  doubt— like  a  dozen  fiery  devils  just 
let  loose  from  hell. 

"The  sight  and  the  sounds  of  us  scares 
them  niggers  into  fits.  The  fat  old  king  gives 
one  yelp  and  with  his  three  hundred  loyal  sub- 
jects starts  for  the  thick  bush  like  a  dory 
running  before  the  wind,  leaving  our  five  ship- 
mates strung  up  to  a  row  of  palm-trees. 

*  *  They  was  just  about  as  scared  as  the  nig- 
gers was.  One  of  'em— a  tall,  bony  man  from 


14  THE   UPSTART 

Martha's  Vineyard,  named  Ebenezer  Hall- 
says,  when  we  're  cutting  'em  loose,  'Wall,'  he 
says,  'I  'd  just  as  leave  be  biled  and  et  as 
scared  to  death,  anyhow.'  And  Gershom 
Brewster,  th'  bos'n,  he  speaks  up  an'  says, 
'We  only  reskied  you  to«save  the  niggers  from 
suffering,  Hall,'  he  says.  'The  nigger  that 
et  you  would  have  dyspepsy  the  rest  of  his 
life.' 

"As  quick  as  we  kin  then  we  rows  back  to 
the  ship  and  sails  away  to  the  north,,  killing 
sixty  right  whales,  biling  down  nine  hundred 
barrels  of  oil  and  stowing  away  fourteen  hun- 
dred-weight of  bone  an'  a  big  chunk  of  amber- 
gris. We  ties  up  again  at  Bedford  after  a 
prosperous  vyidge  of  two  years  and  three 
months,  the  share  of  the  Fust  Mate  in  the 
profits  bein'  three  thousand,  four  hundred  and 
sixteen  dollars  and  forty-seven  cents.  Will 
you  take  it  in  cash  or  leave  it  on  dee-posit  to 
your  credit?" 

"I  don't  care  about  drawing  out  any  of  it 
jest  now,"  answered  Pat,  his  lips  twisted  in  a 
grin  and  fun  twinkling  in  his  eyes. 

"Well  an'  good,"  answered  the  Cap'n  sol- 


THE   UPSTAET  15 

emnly,  taking  down  an  old  log  book  from 
the  shelf  and  proceeding  to  make  an  entry 
with  a  stubby  lead  pencil.  ' '  August  28, 1860, ' ' 
he  wrote.  ''Patrick  McCormick,  First  Mate 
of  the  bark  'Annie  B.'  of  Bedford.  His  share 
of  the  profits  in  the  whaling  cruise  ended 
this  day,  $3,416.47." 

"How  's  my  account  stand,  anyhow?"  de- 
manded Pat,  pompously,  crossing  one  bare  leg 
over  the  other. 

Still  solemn,  the  old  Captain  made  some 
apparently  complicated  calculations,  his  gray 
brows  pulled  far  down  to  hide  the  laughter  in 
his  eyes.  ' '  There  's  some  thirteen  thousand  odd 
on  the  books  to  your  credit,  Fust  Mate,"  he 
said.  "I  'm  afraid,"  he  went  on,  heaving  a 
deep  sea  sigh,  "that  I  '11  have  to  be  signin' 
a  new  Fust  Mate  before  long.  You  '11  be 
wantin'  to  take  out  your  own  ship  soon,  I 
cal'a'late." 


n 


FOE  a  moment  the  Captain  and  his  First 
Mate  sat  smiling  at  each  other,  wrapped 
in  that  delightful  mutual  understanding  which 
needs  no  words.  Then  the  old  man  spoke 
sharply. 

"Where  'd  you  git  that  welt  on  yere  face, 
son?" 

The  boy's  eyes  darkened  and  an  ugly  scowl 
drove  away  the  smile.  Instantly  he  left  the 
pleasant  land  of  enchantment  and  became 
again  a  son  of  shantytown— a  small  human 
animal,  older  than  his  years,  aggressively 
ready  to  defend  himself  by  force  or  cunning 
against  a  world  that  was  mostly  hostile. 

"Old  King  Anders  give  me  that— dang 
him!"  he  said,  sullenly. 

"H-m-m!"  grunted  the  Captain,  reflec- 
tively. "Seems  like  a  feller  like  him  might 
leave  us  poor  folks  alone,  don't  it?  If  I 

16 


THE   UPSTART  17 

owned  mighty  nigh  all  the  farmin'  land  in 
the  county  I  don't  cal'a'late  I  'd  be  covetin' 
this  little  patch  of  black  mud  we  're  squattin' 
on,  too.  But  how  'd  he  come  to  git  after 
yer?" 

"I  went  over  to  the  tannery  to  take  the 
old  man's  lunch  to  him  this  noon.  Jest  as  I 
got  there  he  come  flyin'  out  of  the  big  door 
and  lit  all  in  a  heap  in  the  road.  When  I 
raised  him  up  there  was  blood  runnin'  down 
his  face  and  old  Anders  was  standing  back 
in  the  door  shakin'  his  fist  at  us." 

"Was  yere  dad  hurt  much!" 

"He  could  n't  hardly  talk  straight  at  first," 
the  boy  answered.  "He  must  'a'  lit  so  hard 
on  his  head  that  he  got  stunned. ' ' 

"Rum,  I  cal'r'late,"  said  the  Captain,  in  a 
half-aside. 

"I  was  bringin'  him  home,  when  King 
Anders  come  along,  drivin'  his  big  grays  and 
hoggin'  all  the  road.  I  cussed  him  out  and  he 
leaned  over  and  slashed  me  acrost  the  face. 
Gol  dang  him!  If  he  had  n't  dodged  I  'd  'a' 
laid  him  out  with  a  rock ! ' ' 

The  boy's  face  was  distorted  with  rage  and 


18  THE    UPSTART 

his  hands  were  tightly  gripped  in  remembered 
and  renewed  anger.  The  Captain  looked  at 
him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  an  expression  of 
pity  and  of  understanding  sympathy  on  his 
face.  Then  he  reached  into  the  box  under 
the  seat  on  which  they  sat  and  produced  some- 
thing which  he  held  out  in  his  hand. 

"Here  's  a  ship's  knife  I  Ve  been  a-meanin' 
to  give  you  for  some  time,"  he  said.  "It 
rightly  belongs  to  the  Fust  Mate  of  the 
'Annie  B.'  " 

The  boy  took  the  knife  cautiously  and  ex- 
amined it  with  eyes  of  awe.  The  handle  was 
of  ivory,  curiously  carved  in  the  likeness  of 
a  dolphin. 

*  *  Gee !     That  's  a  daisy, ' '  he  said. 

"She  's  got  four  blades  and  a  gimlet  to 
her,"  the  Captain  went  on,  cunningly. 
"What  's  more,  she  's  been  to  Asiay,  South 
Ameriky  and  the  Gold  Coast.  I  killed  a 
shark  once  with  that  biggest  blade  jest  as 
't  was  about  to  turn  over  and  bite  me.  If 
you  look  close  mebbe  you  kin  see  the  stain  of 
the  blood  yit." 

"I  guess  that  '11  put  the  other  kids  to  sleep," 
said  Pat,  boastfully. 


THE   UPSTAKT  19 

"Now  look  here,  son,"  smiled  the  old  Cap- 
tain. "You  don't  want  to  go  and  git  all 
swelled  up  about  owning  ship's  knives  and 
other  real  and  pussanal  property.  They  's 
too  many  people  sufferin'  from  that  complaint 
already. ' ' 

The  little  clock  which  hung  at  one  end  of 
the  chart-room  struck  nine. 

' 1 1  guess  I  '11  be  going  home, ' '  said  Pat  with 
a  yawn.  "I  'm  kind  a-tired." 

"All  right,  son.  I  '11  go  out  and  sit  on 
the  bridge  a  minute  'fore  I  turn  in." 

When  the  man  and  the  boy  went  out  on  the 
narrow  platform,  a  thick  gray  mist  was  rising 
from  the  river.  It  was  impossible  to -see  more 
than  a  few  feet,  but  the  quick  ears  of  the 
Captain  detected  the  muffled  sound  of  oars. 

1 '  I  wonder  who  's  out  a  night  like  this  ? "  he 
said.  "It  's  coming  across  from  the  tan- 
nery. ' ' 

The  soft  sound  of  oars  striking  the  water 
grew  gradually  more  distinct.  Suddenly  it 
ceased. 

"It  's  landed,  Pat,"  said  the  Captain. 

At  the  foot  of  the  big  willow  tree,  down 


20  THE   UPSTART 

stream,  where  Pat  had  been  found  by  his 
ancient  friend,  a  match  flared  up,  making  a 
yellow  blur  in  the  grayness  of  the  night.  By 
its  light  the  two  on  the  bridge  plainly  made 
out  the  features  of  Mike  McCormick,  as  he 
held  the  flame  to  his  short  clay  pipe.  He  was 
crouching  down  in  the  center  of  the  boat,  the 
bow  of  which  rested  in  a  cushion  of  soft  mud. 
Watching,  they  could  see  him  muttering  to 
himself  and  shaking  his  head  from  side  to 
side  in  a  maudlin  way.  Then  the  match  went 
out  and  the  mist  shut  down  like  a  thick  shade, 
blotting  out  the  picture. 

The  Captain  and  Pat  listened,  but  they 
heard  only  a  muttered  curse  as  the  man's 
unsteady  feet  sank  into  the  soft  mud.  He 
had  merged  into  the  silence  and  shadows 
which  covered  the  flats  of  shantytown. 

'  *  I  did  n  't  know  your  old  man  had  any  set- 
lines  out,  Pat,"  said  the  Captain,  finally. 

"Neither  did  I.  I  don't  think  he  was 
fishin'.  I  guess  mebbe  I  'd  better  wait  a  little 
till  he  gits  to  bed. '  > 

For  some  minutes  the  two  strange  friends 
sat  side  by  side  on  "the  bridge,"  silently 


THE    UPSTART  21 

watching  the  mists  deepen.  From  behind 
them  came  the  muffled  noises  of  the  men  and 
animals  of  Killgrubbin,  settling  themselves 
for  sleep. 

Then  suddenly  the  thick  silence  which  hid 
the  river  was  broken  by  a  startled  yell  from 
the  opposite  bank,  and,  against  the  black  back- 
ground of  night,  a  quivering  red  flame  shot 
up,  growing,  almost  in  an  instant,  to  a  roaring 
blaze. 

" Douse  my  binnacle!  It  's  the  tannery," 
cried  the  Captain  in  awe. 

Small  Pat  sprang  to  his  feet,  throwing  up 
his  grimy  hands  in  a  convulsive  movement 
of  excited  interest.  Then  he  slowly  sank  back 
again  upon  his  box,  tensely  still,  watching  the 
lurid  scene  in  utter  fascination. 

From  behind  them,  along  the  dark  stretches 
of  Main  Street,  came  distant  shouts  that 
quickly  grew  into  a  shrill,  frightened,  many- 
voiced  alarm ;  a  far-off  bell  rang  faintly ;  then 
the  thrilling  reverberations  of  the  great  gong 
on  the  tower  of  the  court-house  shook  the 
night. 

The  air  grew  thick  with  sound  and  luminous 


22  THE    UPSTAET 

with  flame— a  quick  crescendo  of  noise  and 
light  that  came  to  a  climax  with  the  falling  in 
of  the  tannery  roof.  As  it  crashed  down 
there  rose  a  shower  of  brilliant  sparks, 
that  drifted  lazily  westward  on  the  gentle 
breeze.  Then  all  was  blackness  again  and 
quiet,  but  for  the  confused  murmur  of  many 
voices  on  the  opposite  bank. 

The  boy  turned  to  the  old  man  with  a  slow, 
deep-drawn  sigh.  "  'T  was  a  bully  show, 
wasn  'tit,  Cap'n?" 

"Aye!  Aye!  But"— a  deeper  tone  came 
into  the  old  voice— "I  'm  thinkin'  King  An- 
ders '11  make  somebody  pay  for  it.  Looks  to 
me  like  that  tannery  must  'a'  been  set  afire  for 
spite." 

"Well,  then,"  answered  Pat,  with  a  pathetic 
wisdom  beyond  his  years,  "I  'm  glad  we  seen 
the  old  man  in  the  boat  just  now.  If  he  'd 
been  over  on  the  other  bank  there,  I  guess  old 
Anders  'd  'ave  done  for  him  sure.  But  you  and 
me  can  prove  an  alibi  for  him,  can't  we?" 

' '  We  kin  swear  to  it,  son,  all  right,  but  I  'm 
afraid  our  word  would  n't  count  for  much," 
muttered  the  old  man  bitterly.  "I  'm  sech 


THE   UPSTART  23 

a  shif  less,  wuthless,  old  cuss  that  what  I  swore 
to  would  n't  count  fur  nothin';  and  you,"  he 
went  on  with  cruel  candor,  "you  're  jest  a 
little  shanty  mick. ' ' 

WHEN  the  fire  was  at  its  height  there  came  a 
deep  sound  from  the  south,  which  made  itself 
heard  even  through  the  prevailing  din.  Pres- 
ently the  spectators  made  out  a  long  green 
farm  wagon  coming  furiously  along  the  rough 
dirt  road.  It  was  drawn  by  two  huge  gray 
Norman  stallions,  galloping  heavily.  Stand- 
ing up  in  the  front  of  the  wagon  and  brandish- 
ing a  black-snake  whip  was  a  giant  of  a  man, 
more  than  six  feet  tall  and  massive  about  the 
shoulders.  His  broad,  whiskered  face  was 
red  with  excitement  and  he  urged  his  great 
horses  forward  with  deep  roars  of  anger. 

Crouching  in  the  wagon  were  four  half- 
grown  boys,  hardly  less  gigantic  than  their 
sire. 

"Here  comes  King  Anders !"  cried  some  one 
in  the  crowd,  and  the  panic-stricken  people 
made  way  for  him. 

He  leaped  from  the  wagon  and  the  boys 


24  THE    UPSTART 

followed  him,  one  of  them  stopping  to  hold 
the  frantic  horses.  A  glance  showed  him  that 
the  fight  was  hopeless.  The  tannery  was  al- 
ready ruined.  He  ran  to  the  office,  thrusting 
men  and  women  out  of  his  path  with  the 
sweep  of  his  arms.  There,  standing  on  the 
top  of  the  steps,  he  turned  and  faced  the 
crowd. 

"By  Gott!"  he  roared  in  his  deep  voice, 
shaking  his  fist  in  the  face  of  the  people 
nearest  him,  "I  sent  somebody  by  the  peni- 
tentiary for  dis ! " 


HI 


OVER  across  the  river  smoke  was  still 
rising  from  the  blackened  ruins  of  the 
tannery.  In  front  of  Aunt  Bridget's  box-car 
a  little  group  of  people— including  Pat  McCor- 
mick  and  his  mother— was  gathered  to  dis- 
cuss the  exciting  events  of  the  evening. 

"I  wonder  now,"  said  Mrs.  McCormick,  a 
tall,  raw-boned  woman  with  a  tired,  pathetic 
face,  "I  wonder  how  it  got  itsilf  burned 
down?" 

"Annyhow,"  broke  in  Aunt  Bridget,  ram- 
ming a  fresh  load  into  her  clay  pipe,  "  't  was 
good  luck  for  us  Irish.  I  'm  thinkin'  old 
Anders— bad  'cess  to  him — won't  be  so  anx- 
ious now  to  make  us  git  off  the  flats." 

"Sure,  you  can't  till,"  said  old  Mrs.  Hogan, 
pulling  her  green  and  black  checked  shawl 
tighter  about  her  head.  "Anders— the  ould 
diwle— is  mane  enough  to  evict  us  jist  for 

25 


26  THE    UPSTABT 

the  fun  av  it.    And  that  Lawyer  Wagner  is 
the  wust  av  thim  all." 

"  'T  was  for  new  buildin's  for  th'  tannery 
he  wanted  our  land,"  insisted  Aunt  Bridget. 
"Now  it  's  burned  down  he  '11  not  be  spindin' 
money  fer  nothin'." 

"  'T  is  good  enough  for  him,  annyhow," 
went  on  Mrs.  Hogan,  sitting  down  on  the  edge 
of  a  retired  washboiler.  "Him,  wid  his  two 
thousand  acres  of  farm  lands,  thryin'  to  drive 
daycint  peepul  off  the  little  patch  where  they 
been  livin'  fer  tin  years!" 

"I  wonder  now,"  repeated  Mrs.  McCor- 
mick  from  her  seat  on  the  top  step,  ' '  I  wonder 
how  it  got  itsilf  burned  down?  Somebody 
must  have  set  it  on  fire,  I  dunno  ? ' ' 

"That  's  sure,"  promptly  assented  Mrs. 
Hogan.  "There  's  plinty  'd  be  glad  to  hilp 
the  old  Dootchman  to  a  piece  av  bad  luck. 
Thim  min  over  town,  now,  that  Anders  beat 
out  av  their  money  in  the  tannery?" 

"Ann  Hogan,"  old  Bridget  spoke  up 
sharply,  * '  't  was  a  good  thing  for  Killgrubbin 
the  tannery  burned.  Lave  it  go  at  that  and 
stop  thryin'  to  blame  annybody  for  the  bless- 
in'!" 


THE   UPSTART  27 

A  half-grown  pig  thrust  a  curious  snoot  out 
from  beneath  the  box-car  and  began  to  inves- 
tigate Mrs.  Hogan's  bedraggled  black  calico 
skirts.  That  lady,  smarting  under  Aunt 
Bridget's  rebuke,  kicked  out  viciously,  and 
the  porker  precipitately  retired  with  shrill 
squeals  of  pain  and  fright. 

"  'T  is  a  cannibal  pig  you  're  kapin'  under 
th'  house,  Bridget  Mahin,"  said  Mrs.  Hogan, 
sharply. 

' '  Ah-wah, ' '  Aunt  Bridget  countered  grimly. 
"A  pig  '11  ate  annythin'." 

Then  she  relapsed  into  silence  to  let  the  blow 
sink  home. 

Mrs.  Hogan  spoke  quickly,  anxious  at  the 
same  time  to  change  the  issue  and  to  show 
how  little  she  was  affected  by  old  Bridget's 
command  to  stop  the  voice  of  suspicion. 

' '  Thin  there  's  that  Paddy  Mack, ' '  she  went 
on  calmly,  "the  Frinchman,  or  whatiwer  he 
is.  Sure  he  's  not  anxious  to  have  that  long, 
lean  shanty  of  his— built  like  a  sausage  it  is— 
moved  from  th'  flats.  Begob,  it  must  be  full 
av  silver  and  gold,  he  's  that  careful  niwir 
to  lit  a  white  man  stick  his  nose  inside  th' 
dure.  Lived  here  tin  years,  he  has,  and  not 


28  THE   UPSTAET 

one  av  us  leddies  knows  th '  real  name  av  him. 
Whin  you  're  lookin'  fer  th'  lad  that  hilped 
th'  tannery  burn  down,  you— 

"Aw!"  Pat  McCormick  broke  out  indig- 
nantly in  defense  of  his  ancient  friend  and 
shipmate,  "I  was  sitting  out  in  front  there 
with  him  when  the  fire  started ! ' ' 

Just  then  the  bell  in  the  court-house  tower 
began  to  ring  the  hour.  With  a  gesture  which 
commanded  silence,  Aunt  Bridget  took  her 
pipe  from  her  mouth  and  counted  the  strokes. 

"Nine— tin,"  she  concluded.  "Full  time 
daycint  peepul  were  in  bid.  Be  off  wid  ye 
all.  And  you,  Norah,"  she  said  to  her  sister, 
as  the  rest  scattered,  "go  home  and  to  slape. 
'T  was  a  big  wash  you  had  at  th'  Hahn's 
to-day?" 

"Yis,"  answered  Mrs.  McCormick.  "Miss 
Jack's  wearin'  more  an'  more  of  thim  white 
skirts  and  things.  To-morry  I  'm  ironin' 
there.  But  I  'm  thinking  I  'd  betther  stay 
up  until  Mike  comes  back." 

"You  '11  not,"  declared  Aunt  Bridget 
firmly.  ' '  Whin  Michael  gits  home  he  '11  find  a 
rayciption  committee,  consisting  av  me,  wait- 
ing to  bid  him  th'  top  av  th'  mornin'." 


THE   UPSTART  29 

With  the  habit  of  obedience  to  the  iron  will 
of  her  sister  strong  upon  her,  Mrs.  McCor- 
mick  bade  her  son  good-night,  picked  her  way 
across  the  muddy  lane  and  went  into  the  door 
of  the  whitewashed  cabin  opposite.  Old 
Bridget  blew  a  long  puff  from  her  pipe. 

"Come  here  to  me,  Pat,"  she  said.  The 
boy  sat  down  on  an  empty  nail  keg  beside 
her. 

"Whin  ar-r-e  you  dining  agin  at  Judge 
Hahn's,  Misther  McCormick?"  she  asked, 
with  a  note  in  her  voice  that  was  half  pride 
and  half  laughter. 

"When  I  'm  invited,"  Pat  answered,  smil- 
ing shrewdly  up  at  her. 

"  'T  will  not  be  long,  nivir  fear.  Faith, 
Mrs.  Hahn  was  tellin '  yere  mither  this  mornin ' 
she  was  that  glad  you  and  her  son,  Tom, 
was  sich  good  f  rinds.  'T  is  no  thin'  she  cares 
for  th'  coat  on  a  man's  back  or  th'  house  he 
lives  in— and  her  misthress  av'  th'  foinist 
place  on  Main  Sthreet.  Thim  Hahns  ar-re 
th'  salt  av  th'  earth!"  Aunt  Bridget  stood 
up  and  waved  her  hands  in  fine,  dramatic  ges- 
tures. "Mrs.  McCormick  an'  Aunt  Bridgit 
doin'  th'  washin'  out  in  th'  summer  kitchin 


30  THE    UPSTART 

an'  Misther  Pat  McCormick  eatin'  supper  in 
th'  big  dinin  '-room. " 

Playfully  she  poked  the  boy  with  her  pipe. 

"Aw-w,  you  're  a  sly  lad— you  an'  yere  fine 
f  rinds. ' ' 

"Tom  Hahn  's  a  lucky  boy,"  stid  Pat,  with 
a  note  of  envy  in  his  voice. 

"  Luck  is  ut?"  went  on  Aunt  Bridget. 
"Listen  to  me  now.  The  day  befure  Mike 
and  your  mither  and  me  left  the  County  Eos- 
common  on  our  way  to  Ameriky,  old  Granny 
Clancy,  she  that  was  great-grandmither  to  us 
girls  and  older  than  any  of  us  could  count, 
come  hobblin'  over  to  the  cabin  to  say  us 
good-bye.  I  mind  she  wore  a  long  green  cloak 
the  day,  with  the  hood  av  it  pulled  over  her 
head.  Her  pipe  was  in  her  mouth  and  she 
carried  a  long  blackthorn  stick.  'T  was  the 
talk  among  the  cabins  that  Granny  Clancy 
always  drissed  that  way  whin  she  wint  out 
into  the  bog  on  moonlight  nights  to  dance  with 
the  litthle  peepul  be  the  light  av  the  fireflies. 

"  'Nora,'  she  says  to  your  mither  that  was 
to  be,  'your  first-born  '11  be  a  bye  and  you  '11 
have  no  other  though  you  live  to  be  as  old 


THE    UPSTART  31 

as  I  am.  He  '11  be  a  bit  av  a  lad  and  you  '11 
call  him  Pat.  His  hair  will  be  rid  and  the 
freckles  on  his  face  as  thick  as  the  hidge-roses 
in  June  on  Omaugh  Common.  He  '11  be  born 
neither  in  a  house  nor  out  av  doors,  and  ye 
must  watch  over  him  carefully  and  bring  him 
safely  through  the  measles,  for,  in  the  grounds 
av  me  tay  cup  the  other  night  I  see  him 
wearin'  a  long  black  coat  and  standin'  up  on 
his  feet,  wid  a  thousand  min  and  women  cheer- 
in'  and  batein'  th'  flure  before  him.' 

"  *  'T  is  a  priest  the  boy  '11  be,  I  dunno?" 
says  your  mither. 

11  'Faith,'  says  Granny  Clancy,  'how  inquis- 
itive we  be.  A  priest  mebbe  or  a  mimber  av 
parliment,  who  knows?  Nobody  but  me  and 
the  litthle  peepul  and  we  won't  till.' 

"There  's  luck  for  you,  my  bye,"  Aunt 
Bridget  went  on.  "And  it  's  all  come  thrue 
so  far,  too.  You  were  born  at  sea  and  your 
rid  head  and  the  freckles  on  your  face  are 
plain  for  annyone  to  see.  You  're  your 
mither 's  only  child  and,  bechune  us,  with  the 
hilp  av  th'  litthle  peepul  across  the  sea,  we 
must  come  be  th'  long  coat  yit»" 


32  THE    UPSTART 

As  Aunt  Bridget  finished  speaking  a  tall 
figure  staggered  across  the  railroad  track  and 
started  unsteadily  down  the  narrow  lane  be- 
tween the  cabins.  At  the  sight  she  laid  down 
her  pipe,  picked  up  the  long  oak  staff  which 
lay  beside  her  chair  and,  without  a  word  to 
Pat,  advanced  grimly  to  meet  his  father. 

' '  Mike  McCormick, ' '  she  said,  as  she  barred 
the  pathway  of  the  approaching  man,  "you  're 
slapein'  the  night  on  the  flure  av  me  box-car. 
Come  in  wid  ye!" 

"Why,  it  's  Bridget,"  answered  the  man, 
straightening  up.  "Good-evening,  Bridget. 
Can  you  kape  a  saycrit,  Bridget?"— his  voice 
dropped  to  a  husky  whisper.  "I  know  how 
ould  Anders'  tannery  come  to  burn  itsilf 
down  this  avenin',  Bridget." 

"Thin  you  betther  forgit  it,  ye  fool.  Into 
th'  box-car,  now,  till  ye  come  to  yere  sinses!" 

The  man  drew  himself  up  in  drunken  dignity 
and  waved  one  hand  in  a  lordly  gesture. 
"I  'm  goin'  home,  Bridget,"  he  said,  thickly. 
"Git  out  av  me  way." 

"Ye  're  goin'  where  I  tell  ye,"  declared 
the  old  woman,  shaking  an  accusing  fore- 


THE   UPSTART  33 

finger  at  him.  "In  wid  ye  an'  thank  God  *t  is 
not  th'  flure  av  th'  calaboose.  Ye  talk  too 
much,  whin  ye'  re  drunk,  Mike  McCormick." 

The  man  staggered  across  Aunt  Bridget's 
little  yard  and  sat  down  in  the  open  door 
of  the  box-car. 

"All  right,  Bridget,"  he  said,  looking  up 
furtively  at  the  old  woman's  wrathful  face. 
"All  right.  I  '11  do  ut,  to  oblige  ye." 

Without  wasting  further  words  Aunt 
Bridget  gave  him  a  shove  and  Mike  McCor- 
mick rolled  over  and  collapsed  on  the  floor. 
The  old  woman  quickly  turned  the  key  in 
the  lock. 

"Come,  Pat,"  she  said  to  the  boy.  "We  '11 
go  to  bed  now."  The  two  walked  across  to 
the  whitewashed  shanty  into  which  Pat's 
mother  had  disappeared  an  hour  before. 

"In  th'  name  av  the  Lord,  Pat,"  the  old 
woman  said  solemnly,  as  she  stopped  to  open 
the  door,  *  *  nivir  touch  a  drop  av  tlr'  creetur ! 
'T  is  th'  diwle's  own  ile  fer  greasin'  th' 
hinges  av  hell!" 


IV 


EAELT  on  the  morning  after  the  fire 
King  Anders  drove  in  from  the  country 
to  hold  a  conference  with  his  lawyer,  Henry 
Wagner.  Before  leaving  home  he  laid  out 
the  work  for  the  day  for  his  six  big  sons 
and  the  ten  hired  men  who  helped  in  culti- 
vating the  huge  farm.  His  wife  sat  beside 
him  at  the  front  of  the  long  green  wagon. 
Behind,  on  the  straw,  surrounded  by  cases  of 
eggs  and  butter,  was  perched  his  little  daugh- 
ter Antje,  a  dainty,  yellow-haired  little  maid- 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  other  members  of 
the  gigantic  and  swarthy  family. 

A  wave  of  comment  followed  the  king  as 
his  great  gray  stallions  trotted  slowly  up  the 
dusty  stretch  of  Main  Street.  In  front  of 
the  two-  and  three-storied  brick  store  build- 
ings men  stood  in  their  shirt-sleeves  and  gos- 
siped of  the  burned  tannery  and  its  owner. 

34 


THE   UPSTART  35 

No  man  in  all  northern  Elinois  was  better 
known  than  he. 

"I  remember,"  said  one  graybeard,  tilting 
back  in  his  chair,  "when  King  Anders  come 
to  this  country,  fresh  from  Holland,  in  his 
wooden  shoes.  He  was  nigh  as  big  then  as  he  is 
now.  He  come  to  work  for  his  nncle,  old 
Geerds,  out  the  river  road.  Inside  of  five 
years  he  marries  the  Geerds'  girl.  Then 
when  the  old  man  dies  he  steps  right  into 
six  hundred  and  forty  acres  of  Pecatony  bottom 
land.  And  him  only  twenty-one.  It  's  been 
the  same  way  ever  since.  He  's  et  up  every- 
body that  come  near  him." 

"Well,  he  's  likely  to  lose  a  lot  on  the  tan- 
nery burning,  anyhow,"  put  in  another. 
"They  say  he  did  n't  have  no  insurance." 

"Tannery  's  just  a  piece  with  the  rest  of 
it,"  went  on  the  oracle.  "John  Higgins  and 
Henry  Kramer  organizes  the  company — no 
better  people  in  Liberty,  you  know  that— and 
takes  in  King  Anders.  What  happens  I  Huh ! 
That  was  only  two  years  ago  and  last  month 
Anders  tried  to  squeeze  'em  out,  and,  what  's 
more,  he  done  it.  Course  there  was  a  h— 1  of  a 


36  THE   UPSTART 

row.  But  Lawyer  Wagner  and  the  King  was 
too  smart  for  'em.  Higgins  and  Kramer  are 
just  about  bound  to  lose  every  cent  they  got 
on  earth.  And  now  I  s'pose  he  '11  be  trying 
to  trace  the  tannery  fire  to  them." 

TYING  his  horses,  King  Anders  climbed  up 
the  steps  leading  to  Henry  Wagner's  office 
and  sat  down  heavily  in  a  chair  close  to  the 
lawyer's  desk.  At  a  glance  his  little  eyes 
took  in  every  corner  of  the  room.  Then,  with 
his  broad  shoulders  bent  forward  over  the 
desk,  he  spoke  in  what  was  intended  to  be  a 
whisper. 

"I  send  Higgins  and  Kramer  by  the  peni- 
tentiary, ' '  he  said  in  broken,  guttural  English. 

" Bight  away?"  asked  the  lawyer,  in  ironical 
response  to  the  King's  positive  announcement. 

"I  got  me  the  proof  by  them,"  declared 
Anders  emphatically,  striking  the  desk  a  blow 
with  his  fist.  For  half  an  hour  he  went  on, 
triumphantly  reporting  the  evidence  he  had 
gathered.  ' '  When  you  have  them  arrested  ? ' ' 
he  concluded.  '"This  afternoon?" 

Wagner  smiled  at  the  King's  ferocious  ear- 


THE   UPSTART  37 

nestness.    "What  do  you  figure  your  loss  in 
the  fire?"  he  asked. 

"Twelve  thousand  dollars." 

"It  '11  cost  half  that  much  more  to  convict 
them,  even  if  they  're  guilty." 

"You  send  them  by  Joliet,"  said  the  King, 
grimly,  "und-I  pay  the  bills." 

"Well,  we  must  go  slow.  It  's  a  serious 
thing  to  charge  men  like  Higgins  and  Kramer 
with  arson.  They  stand  high  in  town  here 
and  it  '11  be  hard  to  make  people  think  they  're 
guilty.  First  of  all,  we  '11  put  some  detec- 
tives on  the  case  and  see  what  more  they  can 
find  out." 

Two  sleuths  from  Chicago  spent  several 
months  working  in  Liberty.  Finally  they 
succeeded  in  twisting  such  a  rope  of  circum- 
stantial evidence  about  John  Higgins  and 
Thomas  Kramer  that  Wagner  felt  justified  in 
taking  the  case  before  the  grand  jury.  He 
did  it  reluctantly,  for  he  knew  that  the  public 
generally  looked  upon  the  accused  as  victims 
of  King  Anders'  abnormal  greed.  They  had 
been  the  original  promoters  of  the  tannery 
enterprise  and  had  been  forced  out  just  before 


38  THE    UPSTART 

the  fire,  after  a  bitter  struggle,  in  which 
charges  of  treachery  and  dishonesty  had  been 
made  by  both  sides.  Both  of  them  had  lost 
all  the  money  they  had  invested. 

Indictments  for  arson  were  promptly  re- 
turned against  Higgins  and  Kramer,  and  on 
a  Monday  evening  the  village  of  Liberty  shook 
with  the  sensation  of  their  arrest  and  subse- 
quent release  on  bail. 

But,  within  twenty-four  hours,  the  startling 
news  had  been  lost  sight  of  and  forgotten  in 
the  tremendous  shock  of  a  national  crisis,  which 
stirred  the  whole  country  to  its  profoundest 
depths. 

Sumpter  had  been  fired  on  and  President 
Lincoln  had  issued  his  first  call  for  volun- 
teers. That  night  a  great  mass-meeting  was 
held  in  the  court-house  square.  Huge  flags 
were  stretched  across  Main  Street,  and  under 
them,  from  the  top  of  the  stairs  leading  to 
the  court-house,  the  leading  citizens  of  Liberty 
spoke  to  the  thrilled  crowd,  denouncing  the 
South,  pledging  the  men  and  money  of  the 
North  to  the  defense  of  the  Union,  and,  in 
tones  which  vibrated  with  patriotic  enthu- 


THE   UPSTART  39 

siasm,  calling  on  volunteers  to   answer  the 
President's  call. 

Among  the  first  to  respond  was  Mike  Mc- 
Cormick.  He  was  at  once  enrolled  in  a  com- 
pany made  up  of  men  from  Liberty  and,  a 
little  later,  incorporated  into  a  regiment  of 
Illinois  Volunteers. 

For  weeks  after  the  outbreak  of  the  war 
little  else  was  talked  of  in  the  village.  In 
Liberty,  as  elsewhere  all  over  the  country, 
business  was  neglected  and  the  nation  hung 
breathless  on  the  issue.  But  gradually  life 
accommodated  itself  to  the  new  conditions  and 
commonplace,  but  necessary,  transactions  were 
carried  on  as  before,  with  one  great  vital  ques- 
tion ever  in  the  foreground. 

When  the  call  came  for  reinforcements, 
Liberty  sent  many  more  of  her  men  to  the 
front,  among  them  Pat's  old  friend,  the  Cap- 
tain, who,  in  spite  of  his  age,  succeeded  in 
getting  himself  accepted,  and  was  assigned 
to  the  same  regiment  with  Mike  McCormick. 
Thus  the  two  men  became  neighbors  once  more 
—this  time  under  arms. 

In  the  fall  the  indictments  against  Higgins 


40  THE    UPSTART 

and  Kramer  were  taken  up  again  and  the  case 
was  set  for  trial  at  the  December  term  of 
court.  Judge  Hahn  was  retained  to  conduct  the 
defense,  with  Anders'  lawyer,  Henry  Wagner, 
assisting  the  state 's  attorney  in  the  prosecution. 

On  the  opening  day  of  the  trial,  the  court- 
room was  packed,  most  of  the  spectators  being 
friends  of  the  two  defendants,  who  came  ex- 
pecting an  early  and  triumphant  vindication. 
Pat  and  his  friend,  Tom  Hahn,  by  favor  of  the 
latter 's  father,  sat  together  inside  the  railing, 
in  the  space  reserved  for  lawyers. 

Wagner  and  the  detectives  retained  by  An- 
ders had  pieced  together  an  extremely  strong 
case  for  the  state,  and  before  the  first  week 
was  over  the  partisans  of  Higgins  and  Kramer 
began  to  shake  their  heads  in  doubt.  The 
prosecution  proved  the  bitter  feeling  existing 
between  the  two  defendants  and  King  An- 
ders; they  produced  a  witness  who  testified 
that  in  his  hearing  Higgins  had  sworn  to 
get  even  with  Anders  at  any  cost;  they 
proved  that  on  the  day  before  the  fire 
Kramer  had  bought  five  gallons  of  coal- 
oil,  and  that  on  the  evening  of  the  fire,  and 


THE   UPSTART  41 

not  more  than  an  hour  before  it  broke  out, 
a  white  horse  drawing  a  surrey  with  yellow 
wheels  had  been  driven  across  the  river  and 
down  the  road  leading  to  the  tannery.  Hig- 
gins  owned  the  only  horse  and  surrey  in 
Liberty  which  answered  that  description. 
Finally  they  produced  a  white  silk  handker- 
chief with  Kramer's  initials  on  it,  which  the 
watchman  at  the  tannery  swore  he  picked  up 
the  morning  after  the  fire  just  outside  the 
stock  room,  where  flames  had  first  appeared. 
When  the  state  closed  its  case  after  three 
weeks  of  testimony,  it  seemed  certain  that  a 
conviction  would  result. 

Several  times  during  the  progress  of  the 
trial  Pat  wrote  to  the  Captain  at  the  front, 
telling  him  the  case  was  going  against  Higgins 
and  Kramer,  and  that  everybody  expected 
them  to  be  found  guilty. 

The  defense  contented  itself  with  putting 
the  defendants  on  the  stand,  introducing  but 
two  or  three  minor  witnesses.  Higgins  and 
Kramer  admitted  practically  everything  that 
the  state's  witnesses  had  charged.  They  even 
swore  that  they  had  driven  together  to  the 


42  THE   UPSTART 

tannery  on  the  night  of  the  fire  and  had  visited 
the  stock  sheds  and  other  outbuildings,  because 
they  believed  Anders  had  lied  to  them  about 
the  amount  of  tan  bark  and  other  raw  stock 
on  hand,  and  they  wished  to  see  for  them- 
selves, pending  final  settlement  of  a  suit  for 
an  accounting  they  were  about  to  press  against 
the  King.  They  had  been  refused  admission 
to  the  tannery  buildings  by  Anders'  orders, 
and  were,  therefore,  forced  to  visit  them 
secretly.  Of  course  they  both  denied,  as 
strongly  as  possible  any  responsibility  for 
the  fire. 

So  keen  was  the  interest  in  the  trial,  and 
so  eager  was  the  prosecution  for  a  verdict, 
that  court  did  not  adjourn  for  the  Christmas 
holidays.  Henry  Wagner  began  the  week  by 
a  two  days'  speech  for  the  state,  in  which  he 
wove  the  separate  strands  of  evidence  into  a 
tight  web  of  guilt  about  the  two  defendants. 
On  the  morning  before  Christmas  Day  Judge 
Hahn  rose  to  reply.  He  pointed  out  that 
Higgins  and  Kramer  were  men  of  the  highest 
standing  and  reputation  in  the  community; 
that  they  had  been  made  the  victims  of  the 


THE  UPSTAET  43 

notorious  greed  and  cunning  of  the  prose- 
cuting witness,  who  now,  with  the  vindictive 
spirit  of  a  savage,  was  trying  to  punish  them 
for  a  crime  they  had  not  committed.  Against 
them  there  was  nothing  but  some  scattered 
bits  of  circumstantial  evidence,  suspicious, 
perhaps,  in  themselves,  but  perfectly  explained 
by  the  voluntary  testimony  of  the  defendants. 
In  conclusion  he  referred  to  the  holy  day  so 
near  at  hand;  how  at  a  million  firesides  little 
children  would  be  gathered  together  in  mirth 
and  happiness,  and  how  it  rested  with  the 
jury  to  decide  whether  not  only  this  Christ- 
mas, but  all  Christmases  to  come,  should  be 
sad  or  happy  ones  for  the  children  of  the  two 
defendants. 

He  spoke  but  two  hours.  Then  court  ad- 
journed and  the  judge  announced  that  he 
would  deliver  his  charge  to  the  jury  that  after- 
noon. 

When  Pat  got  back  to  Shantytown,  after 
listening  to  the  speech,  he  found— his  mother 
being  out  washing— that  Aunt  Bridget  had 
something  to  eat  on  the  table.  But,  what  was 
more  important,  she  had  two  letters  which 


44  THE   UPSTART 

she  had  got  at  the  post-office  in  the  morning. 
One  of  them  was  for  Pat.  He  knew  the  writ- 
ing. It  was  from  the  Captain.  The  other, 
addressed  ''Mrs.  Michael  McCormick,"  in  a 
large,  clerkly  hand,  was  marked  ' '  Official  Busi- 
ness. ' ' 

Before  he  sat  down  to  dinner,  Pat  read  his 
letter. 

"Dear  Pat,"  the  Captain  wrote.  " Since  I 
got  your  last  letter,  I  Ve  done  a  lot  of  think- 
ing. I  finally  showed  the  letter  to  your  father. 
When  he  read  it,  I  said :  'What  were  you  doing 
out  on  the  river  the  night  of  that  fire?' 

"For  a  minute  he  was  still,  then  he  spoke 
up:  'I  suppose  you  saw  me  when  I  lighted 
my  pipe.  Well,  I  'd  just  got  back  from  setting 
the  thing  on  fire.  I  knew  Anders  was  going 
to  evict  us  on  account  of  the  damned  old  thing, 
»  so  I  just  set  a  match  to  it.  I  did  it  so  that 
nobody  could  prove  it  on  me,  either,  but  I 
ain't  going  to  see  these  fellows  sent  down  for 
my  job.  If  they  convict  Higgins  and  Kramer 
I  'm  going  back  and  'f ess  up  to  it. ' 

"We  talked  about  it  almost  all  night.  I 
made  your  father  see  that  it  would  be  too  late 


THE    UPSTART  45 

to  confess  after  two  innocent  men  had  been 
convicted.  So  we  finally  decided  to  draw  up 
a  paper,  stating  the  facts.  I  send  it  with  this 
letter.  It  's  signed  by  two  witnesses  and  fixed 
up  in  proper  form,  as  near  as  we  could  make 
it.  Use  it  if  you  have  to ;  I  leave  that  all  to 
you. 

11  Perhaps  you  wonder  why  I  take  such  an 
interest  in  clearing  John  Higgins  and  his 
partner?  There  's  a  long  story  behind  that, 
and  some  day  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it.  I 
wish,  though,  it  was  n't  at  your  expense." 

Pat  ate  no  bite  of  dinner.  Instead,  he  thrust 
the  Captain's  letter  into  his  pocket  and  hur- 
ried up  to  the  house  of  Judge  Hahn,  where  he 
knew  his  mother  was  at  work. 

The  old  woman  was  busy  in  the  summer 
kitchen,  just  at  the  rear  of  the  house.  She 
was  stooping  over  the  wash-tubs  when  her 
son  came  in. 

"Here  's  a  letter  for  you,  mother,"  he  said, 
holding  out  the  big  envelope  with  its  official 
stamp.  He  even  tried  to  force  a  smile. 

"Open  it  for  me,  Pat,  darlin',"  she  said, 
wiping  the  suds  from  her  hands  on  her  blue 


46  THE    UPSTART 

apron.  "I  wonder  who  kin  be  writin'  to  th' 
likes  av  me?  We  're  not  owing  a  cint  to  a 
soul,  at  all.  Now  read  me  th'  letther." 

So  Pat  began. 

"Army  of  the  Mississippi,"  was  the  legend 
engraved  across  the  top  of  the  sheet.  "Mrs. 
Michael  McCormick,  Liberty,  Ills.,"  the  letter 
began  in  formal  style.  "Dear  Madam,  I  am 
directed  by  Col.  Forsyth,  commanding  the— th 
Regiment,  Illinois  Volunteers,  to  express  to 
you  his—" 

Pat  hesitated,  then  stopped.  ' '  Go  on,  bye, '  ' 
his  mother  urged.  t  l  Why,  what  's  the  matter 
wid  ye?" 

"—to  express  to  you  his  regrets  and  con- 
dolences"—the  boy  choked  up  again. 

' '  What  is  ut  ?  What  is  ut" ' '  cried  Mrs.  Mc- 
Cormick. ' '  Hurry  up ! " 

" — condolences  at  the  death  of  your  hus- 
band, Private  Michael — " 

"Kilted!"  screamed  the  old  woman,  and, 
collapsing  in  a  chair,  she  threw  over  her  head 
the  blue  gingham  apron  she  was  wearing,  and 
so  swayed  back  and  forth,  screaming,  "He  's 
kilted!  My  Mike  is  kilted!"  Then  the  un- 


THE    UPSTART  47 

happy  woman  slipped  to  the  floor,  where  she 
'groveled  in  her  abject  grief. 

Pat  dropped  the  letter  and  knelt  down  beside 
her. 

At  the  first  sound  of  her  scream,  Judge 
Hahn  and  the  rest  of  the  family  came  hurry- 
ing from  the  dining-room.  The  Judge  picked 
up  the  letter  and  glanced  at  its  contents. 
Meanwhile  Lucy  Wilson,  Mrs.  Hahn's  sister, 
had  dropped  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the 
clothes-basket  and  was  giving  old  Mrs.  Mc- 
Cormick  the  comfort  which  only  one  woman 
can  give  another  in  such  an  emergency. 

"Here,  Mrs.  McCormick,"  said  Judge 
Hahn,  finally,  when  she  had  been  persuaded 
to  take  her  head  from  under  her  apron  and 
to  quiet  her  shrieks  to  a  series  of  heart-rend- 
ing moans,  ''let  me  read  this  letter.  You 
should  be  a  proud  as  well  as  a  sad  woman  this 
day.  Listen. ' ' 

Then  he  read  the  concluding  paragraph  of 
the  official  letter : 

"The  Colonel  instructs  me  to  say  that  Pri- 
vate McCormick  lost  his  life  while  attempting 
an  act  of  great  daring  and  courage.  Had  he 


48  THE    UPSTART 

survived  he  would  have  been  recommended  for 
a  commission.  The  Colonel  instructs  me  to" 
say  that  while  you  have  lost  your  husband, 
the  nation  has  added  one  to  its  list  of  heroes. ' ' 

Judge  Hahn  lifted  the  old  woman  to  her 
feet.  The  others  crowded  round,  offering  her 
a  mixture  of  congratulation  and  condolence. 
They  wrung  her  hands,  they  patted  her  on 
the  back,  and  pressed  upon  her  cups  of  tea 
and  other  stimulants,  until,  finally,  Mrs.JIahn 
carried  her  away  to  rest  in  her  own  bed-room. 

Pat  sat  beside  his  mother  until  she  fell 
asleep,  with  the  Captain's  letter  burning  in 
his  pocket.  Now  that  his  father  was  dead, 
his  duty  was  very  clear.  He  slipped  into  the 
library,  where  Judge  Hahn  was  sitting. 

''Here  's  another  letter  which  came  this 
morning,"  he  said.  Judge  Hahn  read  the 
Captain's  letter  and  its  inclosures  with  fur- 
rowed brow. 

"It  can't  do  father  any  harm  now,"  Pat 
said,  when  he  looked  up.  "And  mother  "and 
I  can  stand  it." 

"I  '11  see  you  don't  lose  by  it,"  answered 
the  judge,  clasping  the  boy's  hand.  "Come 


THE   UPSTART  49 

with  me.    We  must  hurry  down  to  the  court- 
house." 

After  a  brief  conference  with  the  judge, 
court  was  called  to  order.  The  jury  was 
brought  in  and  Judge  Hahn  rose  in  the  center 
of  a  profound  silence.  The  room  was  packed 
and  every  one  seemed  to  feel  that  an  unex- 
pected crisis  was  at  hand. 

Without  a  preliminary  word,  Judge  Hahn 
read  the  formal  statement,  in  which  Mike  Mc- 
Cormick  described  how  he  had  set  fire  to  the 
tannery,  and  stated  his  motive  in  so  doing, 
ending  with  his  signature  and  those  of  the 
two  witnesses,  and  the  attestation,  in  legal 
form,  of  the  regimental  judge  advocate. 

As  he  finished,  Higgins  clutched  the  arms  of 
his  chair  and  gasped  his  relief.  Wagner  started 
to  rise,  but  was  waved  to  his  seat  by  the  court. 
The  jury  leaned  forward  in  an  attitude  of 
strained  attention.  King  Anders'  face  went 
fiery  red.  He  leaned  over  and  whispered  to 
Lawyer  Wagner,  who  had  grown  suddenly 
pale.  Applause  broke  out  in  the  crowded 
room,  but  was  instantly  stilled  by  a  rap  of  the 
sheriff's  gavel. 


50  THE   UPSTART 

Judge  Halm  told  how  the  paper  had  come 
into  his  possession.  "  These  defendants  are 
as  innocent  of  this  crime  as  any  member  of 
this  jury,"  he  went  on.  "It  was  Michael  Mc- 
Cormick  who  set  the  tannery  on  fire.  He  was 
the  criminal.  But  the  same  mail  which 
brought  this  confession,  brought  with  it  an- 
other letter." 

Slowly  the  lawyer  opened  the  letter  from 
Colonel  Forsyth  and  read  it  aloud. 

"Michael  McCormick,"  he  said,  impres- 
sively, "has  passed  beyond  the  reach  of  any 
earthly  tribunal.  But  if  it  is  possible  for  a 
man  to  expiate  a  crime  in  this  world,  he  has 
done  so.  If  he  stained  his  name  by  the  com- 
mission of  a  private  wrong,  he  has  given  his 
life  for  the  public  good.  Living  in  the  shadow 

of  a  crime,  he  died  a  hero Your  Honor, 

I  move  that  the  case  against  these  defendants 
be  taken  from  the  jury  and  that  they  be  re- 
leased, pending  a  further  investigation." 

Still  there  was  a  silence.  The  situation  was 
too  tense  for  applause.  Wagner  made  objec- 
tions to  the  action  asked  for.  He  was  over- 
ruled and  the  court  discharged  the  jury,  and 


THE  UPSTABT  51 

released  the  defendants,  with  a  promise  that 
all  the  facts  connected  with  the  confession 
should  be  investigated. 

Then,  at  last,  a  storm  of  cheers  broke  out. 
Dozens  of  men  crowded  about  the  defendants 
to  congratulate  them.  In  the  midst  of  the 
tumult  Judge  Hahn  pulled  Pat  McCormick 
forward. 

'  *  Here  's  the  fellow  you  want  to  thank,  Hig- 
gins,"  he  said. 

Higgins  shook  his  hand.  "Some  day  I  '11 
pay  you  for  this,  Pat, ' '  he  said,  with  an  empha- 
sis which  left  no  doubt  of  his  deep  sincerity. 

At  the  table  near-by  stood  Wagner  and  his 
huge  client.  "Come  on,  Anders.  Let  's  get 
out  of  this, ' '  said  the  lawyer. 

But  the  old  King  shook  his  head  furiously. 
For  a  full  minute  he  stood  and  glared  at  the 
son  of  the  man  who  had  burned  his  tannery 
and  who  had  now  spoken  from  the  grave,  as  it 
were,  to  thwart  his  revengeful  plans. 


THE  sudden  end  of  the  arson  trial  marked 
what  was  apparently  a  sudden  change 
in  the  attitude  of  Pat  McCormick  toward  the 
problems  of  life.  When  the  trial  began  he 
was  merely  a  boy ;  when  Higgins  and  Kramer 
were  discharged  on  that  December  afternoon 
he  had  become  a  man,  feeling  a  keen  sense  of 
responsibility  as  head  of  the  McCormick 
family.  In  reality  the  change  was  not  as  sud- 
den as  it  appeared.  Pat's  association  with 
Tom  Hahn  and  other  boys  of  happier  birth 
and  better  breeding  at  the  public  school,  the 
constant  encouragement  and  inspiration  of  the 
old  Captain  and  Aunt  Bridget,  had  developed 
in  him  a  vague,  half -expressed  ambition,  need- 
ing only  some  such  shock  as  the  sensational 
death  of  his  father  to  crystallize  into  a  fierce 
determination. 

"I   'm  going  to  stay  here  in  Liberty  and 

52 


THE  UPSTART  53 

show  people  that  a  shanty  mick  can  amount  to 
something, ' '  he  wrote  to  the  Captain,  to  whom 
he  could  make  such  a  statement  without  sus- 
picion of  boasting. 

His  plan  had  been  to  finish  with  the  high 
school  and  then  to  take  up  the  study  of  law. 
But  now,  as  is  always  the  case  when  the  ideal 
is  to  be  translated  into  the  actual,  circum- 
stances arose  which  made  the  following  of 
that  plan  impossible. 

Within  a  week  of  the  close  of  the  trial 
Lawyer  Wagner  began  ejectment  proceedings 
to  force  Mrs.  McCormick  to  give  up  her  home 
in  Killgrubbin.  Urged  by  King  Anders,  to 
whom  a  petty  revenge  was  better  than  none, 
he  pushed  the  suit  to  a  quick  hearing.  But 
before  the  order  of  ejectment  was  issued,  Pat's 
new  friend,  John  Higgins,  came  forward  with 
the  offer  of  a  cottage,  rent  free.  The  offer 
was  made  to  old  Mrs.  McCormick,  who  ac- 
cepted it  gladly,  but  when  Pat  came  home 
from  school  that  afternoon  and  heard  the 
news,  he  put  an  instant  veto  on  the  accept- 
ance. 

"I  Ve  got  a  job  in  the  post-office, "  he  said, 


54  THE  UPSTART 

"and  I  've  found  a  little  place  out  at  the 
end  of  Main  Street  we  can  rent  for  ten  dollars 
a  month.  I  '11  go  over  and  thank  Mr.  Hig- 
gins. ' ' 

"But  how  can  you  do  that  and  go  to 
school  ? ' '  asked  Aunt  Bridget. 

1 '  I  am  going  to  quit, ' '  Pat  announced. 

"Aw— now,  darling,"  pleaded  the  old 
woman,  "you  '11  not  do  that?  Wid  me  and 
your  mither  earnin'  our  tin  dollars  a  week 
and  nothing  at  all  ilse  to  amuse  ourselves 
wid?" 

"I  'm  going  to  work  on  Monday,"  Pat  an- 
swered. "I  Ve  rented  the  Main  Street  place 
for  a  year.  We  '11  move  to-morrow." 

Aunt  Bridget  made  many  angry  objections 
to  evacuating  her  box-car  and  she  reproached 
Pat  bitterly  for  giving  up  school,  with  his 
"diplomay"  only  a  few  years  off,  but  secretly 
she  was  full  of  pride  for  the  boy.  The  evening 
after  the  moving  of  the  scanty  household  goods 
was  accomplished  she  rapped  at  the  Hahns's 
kitchen  door,  carrying  a  bundle  under  her  arm. 
It  was  Mrs.  Hahn,  herself,  who  opened  the 
door  to  her. 


THE   UPSTART  55 

"Good-evening,"  said  Aunt  Bridget,  with 
a  somewhat  haughty  air,  "we  jist  moved  into 
our  new  house  on  Main  Street,  Mrs.  Hahn 
and  I  Ve  come  to  bring  back  that  black  basque 
yere  sisther  Lucy  brought  over  for  Norah. 
Misther  McCormick  '11  be  buying  our  clothes 
afther  this." 

Smiling,  Mrs.  Hahn  invited  the  old  woman 
into  her  kitchen  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  there 
learned  the  whole  story  of  what  Pat  had  done. 

"That  's  fine,"  she  said,  half-way  between 
amusement  and  pride  in  the  boy's  deter- 
mination. "The  Judge  was  saying  this  noon 
he  had  succeeded  in  getting  Mrs.  McCormick 
a  pension  of  twenty  dollars  a  month." 

"Wull,  wull!"  cried  Aunt  Bridget  in  de- 
light. "Sure  Mike  McCormick  dead  is  worth 
a  lot  more  to  his  family  than  ivir  he  was  alive, 
God  rist  his  soul." 

Not  long  after  Pat  went  to  work,  the  Rev- 
erend Mr.  Burton,— friend  and  companion  of 
every  boy  in  the  village,— hunted  Pat  up  and 
invited  him  to  spend  a  couple  of  evenings  each 
week  at  the  Rectory. 

"I  'm  getting  a  bit  rusty  myself,  Pat,"  he 


56  THE    UPSTART 

said,  "and  if  you  'd  like  to  keep  up  your 
algebra  and  read  a  little  Latin  and  history, 
we  '11  begin  to-morrow  evening. ' ' 

Pat  smiled  to  himself  every  time  he  thought 
of  his  first  meeting  with  Mr.  Burton.  It  was 
a  moonlight  winter  night  and  Vinegar  Hill 
and  Killgrubbin  were  in  the  midst  of  a  pitched 
battle  at  the  head  of  Cooper 's  Hill.  Suddenly 
a  sturdy  figure  in  a  red  dressing  gown  shot 
out  of  the  Eectory  door  and  sprinted  across 
the  lawn,  taking  the  low  fence  in  its  stride. 
Pat  and  the  leader  of  the  Vinegar  Hill  gang, 
struggling  fiercely  on  the  ground,  felt  their 
collars  clutched  in  a  firm  grip. 

"Fighting  's  bad  enough,"  said  the  voice  of 
Mr.  Burton,  "but  this  kind  of  fighting  is  a 
disgrace.  Scratching  and  biting  like  dogs! 
If  you  boys  have  got  to  fight,  come  over  to 
my  barn  and  I  '11  give  you  some  boxing  les- 
sons." 

Now  Pat  was  glad  to  accept  this  new  invi- 
tation and  regularly  he  spent  two  evenings 
of  each  week  at  the  old  stone  house,  where  the 
Rector  lived  alone  with  his  old  and  crotchety, 
mother. 


THE   UPSTAET  57 

In  the  course  of  their  reading,  Mr.  Burton 
discovered  that  Pat  was  the  possessor  of  a 
bass  voice  surprisingly  deep  and  powerful  in 
a  boy  of  his  small  stature ;  and  often,  when  the 
lessons  were  over,  he  leaned  back  in  his  easy 
chair  and  listened  in  half-humorous  appre- 
ciation while  Eienzi  addressed  the  Romans  or 
Spartacus  roused  the  gladiators  to  revolt. 

One  Sunday  Mr.  Burton  and  Pat  were  in- 
vited to  dine  together  at  Judge  Hahn's.  At 
the  table  the  Rector  noticed  that  the  Judge 
was  not  wearing  his  customary  first-day  black. 

"I  did  n't  see  you  at  church  to-day,  Judge?" 
he  said. 

' '  No, ' '  answered  the  Judge,  with  a  quizzical 
smile,  "I  could  n't  go.  Sister  Lucy  will  tell 
you  why." 

"Now,  John,"  stammered  the  embarrassed 
lady,  blushing  furiously,  "I  told  you  I  would 
buy  you  a  new  coat  as  soon  as  my  interest 
money  came  in.  You  see,"  she  explained, 
with  perfect  ingenuousness,  "our  theological 
student,  Mr.  Patterson,  had  his  first  call  to 
preach  to-day  and  he  did  n't  have  a  decent  coat 
of  any  kind  to  wear. ' ' 


58  THE    UPSTART 

After  dinner,  when  Judge  Hahn  and  Mr. 
Burton  sat  down  together  in  the  library  to 
smoke  their  cigars,  with  Pat  McCormick  and 
Tom  to  keep  them  company,  the  Judge  quiz- 
zically asked  the  Rector  for  advice  on  the  sub- 
ject of  his  wife's  sister. 

"Lucy  would  give  away  everything  in  the 
house  if  we  did  n't  keep  a  close  watch  on 
her,"  smiled  the  Judge,  "including  herself. 
Only  this  week  she  brought  me  a  letter  of  pro- 
posal from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Elliott— you  know  him 
—the  tall,  discouraged-looking  widower,  with 
the  projecting  Adam's  apple  and  the  seven 
small  children,  they  've  got  over  to  the  Second 
Baptist  Church.  They  get  a  new  minister 
over  there  about  every  six  months  and  they 
all  propose  to  Lucy." 

"I  don't  blame  them,*"  said  Mr.  Burton, 
stoutly. 

"She  always  comes  to  me  for  advice,  and 
so  far  I  've  been  able  to  prevent  her  doing 
anything  rash,"  the  Judge  went  on.  "But  I 
had  a  close  call  with  this  Elliott  man.  He 
wrote  a  mighty  eloquent  letter." 

Mr.  Burton  said  nothing. 


THE    UPSTART  59 

' '  I  read  it  through.  Then  I  asked :  '  Do  you 
love  him?'  " 

''What  did  she  say  to  that?"  asked  the 
Rector. 

"  'What  has  an  old  woman  of  thirty-seven 
to  do  with  love?'  she  answered  me.  'But  he 
only  gets  six  hundred  a  year— and  that  is  n't 
always  paid,  you  know.  My  little  interest 
money  would  be  a  great  help.  Then  there  's 
those  seven  little  children  with  no  one  to  look 
after  them!'  " 

"The  man  did  n't  ask  her  to  marry  him  on 
those  grounds,  surely,"  said  Mr.  Burton 
hotly. 

"Oh,  no.  That  's  the  way  she  put  the  case 
to  herself.  I  did  some  mighty  hard  thinking 
for  a  minute.  Finally  I  said,  'Mr.  Elliott  is 
a  very  brilliant  man.  He  will  have  a  splendid 
career.  Within  a  few  years,  I  have  no  doubt, 
he  will  be  called  to  one  of  the  big  city  churches. 
I  can  see  you  now,  dressed  in  a  fine  new  silk 
dress,  driving  in  your  own  carriage  up  to 
the  great  church.  They  will  have  an  assistant 
pastor  and  a  corps  of  deaconesses,  so  you  will 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  attend  to  your  social 


60  THE    UPSTART 

duties.  Mr.  Elliott's  proposal  will  bear  very 
serious  consideration,  my  dear.'  " 

Mr.  Burton  was  smiling  broadly. 

"Now  I  want  to  know,  Parson,"  asked  the 
Judge,  "  whether  you  think  my  flight  of  imag- 
ination was  justifiable." 

"What  was  the  result  of  it?" 

"Why,  she  sat  right  down  and  declined  his 
offer,  of  course.  The  prospect  I  painted  was 
too  much  for  her.  The  minute  one  of  Lucy's 
friends  begins  to  have  even  a  distant  chance 
of  becoming  prosperous  she  loses  all  interest 
in  him." 

"The  dear  saint,"  laughed  Mr.  Burton. 

"And  such  a  bigot,"  Judge  Hahn  went  on. 
"Eight  after  you  began  coming  to  the  house, 
Pat,  she  came  in  one  day  and  warned  me  that 
I  must  n't  let  Tom  associate  with  you. 
'What  's  the  matter  with  Pat  McCormickf  I 
asked.  She  lowered  her  voice  to  a  whisper 
to  make  answer.  'John,'  she  said,  solemnly, 
'  Pat  McCormick  is  a  Eomanist. ' 

The  roar  of  hearty  laughter  which  followed 
was  interrupted  by  Mrs.  Hahn. 

' l  What  are  you  men  laughing  at  1 "  she  asked 
from  the  hallway. 


THE   UPSTART  61 

Before  Mr.  Burton  could  answer  there 
sounded  the  voice  of  Miss  Lucy,  calling  to  her 
sister  from  the  dining-room. 

"0  Alice,"  she  called,  "I  'm  going  to  take 
the  rest  of  this  ice  cream  over  to  Mrs.  Wolfer- 
man. ' ' 

Mrs.  Hahn  joined  in  the  renewed  laughter. 

"  There,  hear  her, ' '  said  Judge  Hahn.  * '  Now 
Burton,  do  you  understand  why  I  am  still  a 
poor  man?" 

Walking  home  together  up  Main  Street  Pat 
noticed  that  Mr.  Burton  was  unusually  silent. 

"Is  anything  the  matter,  Mr.  Burton?"  he 
asked  finally. 

"No,  Pat,"  answered  the  Eector.  "I  was 
just  wondering  how  any  man  could  dare  to 
ask  a  saint  like  Lucy  Wilson  to  marry  him." 


VI 


FOE  MOEE  than  a  year  life  went  smoothly 
in  the  new  house.  Pat  did  faithful  work 
at  the  post-office  and  spent  two  evenings  each 
week  at  the  Eectory.  During  the  same  time 
Mr.  Burton  was  preparing  Tom  Hahn  for  ad- 
mission to  Ann  Arbor  and  the  two  boys  studied 
and  recited  together,  their  old  friendship 
growing  constantly  stronger. 

In  the  Fall,  after  Tom  had  gone  to  matric- 
ulate and  his  pretty  sister,  Miss  Jack,  had 
entered  the  seminary  at  Bickford,  Pat  Mc- 
Cormick  took  the  examination  for  a  teacher's 
certificate,  and,  giving  up  his  place  in  the  post- 
office,  got  an  appointment  to  teach  the  Slayson 
cross-roads  school,  eight  miles  out  in  the 
country. 

It  was  in  October  of  the  same  year  that 
small-pox  broke  out  in  the  village.  It  is  still 
referred  to  in  Liberty  as  the  year  of  the  great 

62 


THE   UPSTAKT  63 

plague.  The  dread  disease  first  appeared,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  in  Killgrubbin.  The 
physician  who  discovered  the  case  hurried  to 
the  office  of  Dr.  Jackson,  the  health  officer,  and 
turned  it  over  to  him  with  a  groan  of  relief. 
Shantytown  was  immediately  quarantined,  and 
those  within  its  borders  were  forbidden  to 
leave  on  any  pretext.  A  big  yellow  flag  was 
put  up  on  a  pole  near  the  first  house  on  the 
river  bank  and  the  necessary  food  for  the 
quarantined  people  was  left  in  baskets  each 
morning  at  the  side  of  the  bridge  nearest  Kill- 
grubbin. , 

The  first  night  of  the  quarantine  a  boat  load 
of  Shantytown  people  escaped  by  rowing  a 
couple  of  miles  down  the  river.  When  this 
was  discovered,  an  armed  man  was  stationed 
on  either  side  of  the  river,  with  instructions 
to  shoot,  if  necessary,  to  keep  the  prisoners 
within  bounds. 

Dr.  Jackson,  a  young,  unmarried  physician, 
gave  up  his  practice  and  moved  to  Killgrubbin 
to  devote  himself  to  stamping  out  the  plague. 
His  greatest  trouble  was  that  he  had  no  nurses. 
Within  a  week  twelve  cases  had  appeared  and 


84  THE    UPSTART 

the  women  of  Skantytown  were  too  terror- 
stricken  to  be  of  much  service. 

Pat,  coming  home  from  his  school  in  the 
country  one  Friday  night,  found  the  whole 
village  demoralized  with  fear.  The  richer  peo- 
ple were  leaving,  and  business  was  almost  at 
a  standstill.  It  was  the  next  morning,  early, 
that  Pat's  old  Aunt  Bridget,  taking  her  pipe 
and  bag  of  tobacco  and  a  big  roll  of  clean 
rags  under  her  arm,  left  the  house  before 
either  her  sister  or  nephew  were  up  and 
started  straight  for  Killgrubbin.  When  the 
guard  tried  to  stop  her  from  entering  the  quar- 
antined district  she  faced  him  grimly. 

"Young  felly,"  she  said,  "I  'm  going  over 
there  on  th'  river  bank  to  help  me  old  f rinds, 
so  I  am,  and  I  'd  like  to  see  you  stop  me !  You 
run  along  now  and  tell  Pat  McCormick  and  his 
mither  that  they  've  seen  the  last  av  me  unlis, 
praise  Mary,  I  come  through  this  thing  alive. 
And  mind  now,  you  're  to  leave  a  pound  of 
smoking  tobacco  in  th'  basket  for  me  ivery 
Mondah  mornin'." 

Distracted  Dr.  Jackson,  inside  the  plague- 
lines,  welcomed  the  coming  of  the  redoubtable 


THE   UPSTART  65 

old  woman.  She  was  the  first  person  to  come 
inside  since  the  quarantine  was  declared,  and 
she  brought  with  her  a  fearless  spirit  and  a 
great  store  of  common  sense.  While  he  doc- 
tored the  sick,  she  organized  the  women  of 
Killgrubbin  and  forced  them  to  scrub  the  ram- 
shackle shanties  from  top  to  bottom  in  the 
effort  to  conquer  the  plague  with  soap  and  hot 
water. 

Three  weeks  went  by  and  it  began  to  be  be- 
lieved that  the  small-pox  would  be  confined  to 
Killgrubbin.  Then  suddenly  the  town  was 
thrown  into  a  wild  panic  of  fear  by  'the  report 
that  a  case  had  been  discovered  at  the  rear  of 
a  house  on  Main  Street,  in  a  small  hut  occu- 
pied by  a  German  woman,  who  kept  two  cows 
and  sold  the  milk. 

Most  of  the  remaining  population  of  Liberty 
would  have  left  town  on  the  next  train,  had 
that  been  possible,  but  the  rest  of  the  state 
had  by  this  time  enforced  a  quarantine  against 
Liberty  and  trains  did  not  even  stop  at  the 
village,  mail  and  express  matter  being  thrown 
from  the  open  cars  as  they  passed  through. 
Such  being  the  case,  scpres  of  families  left 


66  THE    UPSTART 

their  homes  and  moved  to  the  hills  about  the 
town,  living  in  tents  and  other  temporary  shel- 
ters. The  public  schools  had  been  closed  at 
the  first  outbreak  of  the  disease  and  only 
necessary  business  was  carried  on. 

The  Hahns,  or  rather  the  adult  part-  of  the 
family  which  was  at  home,  _  were  among  those 
who  did  not  desert  their  house. 

"We  Ve  got  to  stay  and  watch  Lucy,"  the 
Judge  said,  with  a  smile,  when  asked  why  he 
did  not  join  the  exodus.  "No,  she  has  n't 
got  the  small-pox,  but  she'd  get  it  and  scatter 
it  all  over  town  if  we  did  n't  keep  her  almost 
chained  up.  She'd  have  been  over  in  Kill- 
grubbin  long  ago  if  I  had  n't  absolutely  for- 
bidden her  to  go. ' ' 

In  the  cleaner  and  better  residence  part  of 
the  village  the  disease  did  not  spread  rapidly, 
but  cases  broke  out  here  and  there  in  the 
most  unsuspected  places. 

One  evening  Judge  Hahn  came  home  with 
a  grave  look  on  his  face.  "There  's  a  yellow 
flag  on  the  Rectory,"  he  told  his  wife. 

Mrs.  Hahn  was  horrified  by  the  announce- 
ment. 


THE   UPSTART  67 

"Has  Mr.  Burton  got  the  plague?"  she 
asked  anxiously. 

"No,  it  's  his  mother,  but,  of  course,  he  '11 
stay  and  care  for  her.  They  took  milk  from 
old  Mrs.  Wolf erman. ' ' 

1 1  What  can  we  do  f "  asked  Mrs.  Hahn. 

"I  came  home  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  it  to 
see  that  you  and  Lucy  did  n't  do  anything 
foolish.  We  've  sent  to  Chicago  to  get  a  special 
nurse  for  the  old  lady.  Whatever  happens, 
neither  of  you  must  go  near  the  Rectory.  Per- 
haps it  would  be  just  as  well  to  wait  until  the 
nurse  comes  before  we  tell  Lucy  anything 
about  it. ' ' 

* '  Great  Heavens ! ' '  cried  Mrs.  Hahn.  * '  They 
have  n't  even  a  hired  girl  to  help  them.  What 
will  the  poor  man  do  for  his  meals  f ' ' 

But  Miss  Lucy,  coming  downstairs  at  the 
time,  had  heard  Judge  Hahn's  first  startling 
announcement  and  had  stopped  short  with  a 
thrill  of  pitying  horror.  She  stood  there,  half- 
way down,  and  listened  eagerly  to  every  word. 
Then,  silently,  she  slipped  back  to  her  room, 
stuffed  some  things  into  her  old  straw  satchel, 
and  stole  as  silently  down  the  back  stairs. 


68  THE    UPSTAKT 

She  let  herself  out  into  the  back  yard— the 
Hahn's  servant  had  fled  in  terror  weeks  be- 
fore—ran through  the  garden,  climbed  the 
high  back  fence  in  a  most  hasty  and  undig- 
nified manner  for  a  maiden  lady  of  thirty- 
seven  and  ran  down  the  alley  with  the  guilty 
speed  of  a  thief. 

Just  as  she  disappeared  over  the  fence,  she 
heard  her  sister's  voice  calling,  "Lucy!"  and 
the  sound  lent  greater  speed  to  her  feet. 

Dusk  was  beginning  to  fall  as  she  reached 
the  side  street  upon  which  the  alley  opened, 
and  she  hurried  along  without  meeting  a  soul 
she  knew.  Nearing  the  Rectory  she  shot 
around  to  the  rear,  slipped  through  the  little 
churchyard  and  opened  the  door  of  the  back 
kitchen  without  stopping  to  knock.  There  she 
stopped  for  a  moment  to  listen.  She  could 
hear  some  one  in  the  front  kitchen  fumbling 
about  the  stove  and  rattling  the  cooking  uten- 
sils. Still  unannounced,  she  opened  the  door 
into  the  kitchen  and  caught  the  Reverend  Rich- 
ard Burton  in  the  act  of  frying  an  egg. 

He  looked  up  as  the  door  creaked  and  his 
face  was  startled  and  perplexed. 


THE   UPSTART  69 

"Oh,  you  poor  thing!"  said  Miss  Lucy. 

'  *  Miss  Lucy ! ' '  cried  the  clergyman.  ' i  What 
are  you  doing  here  ? ' ' 

"  In  a  minute, ' '  she  answered,  with  the  look 
of  a  spoiled  child,  "I  'm  going  to  be  frying 
eggs." 

"I  won't  let  you  stay,"  Mr.  Burton  declared 
firmly. 

"You  can't  get  rid  of  me,"  snapped  Miss 
Lucy  in  answer.  "I  Ve  been  exposed  to  the 
plague,  don't  you  see!  They  won't  let  me 
leave  here  now  till  it  's  all  over." 

She  was  already  busy  about  the  stove.  Mr. 
Burton  stood  looking  at  her  in  silent  amaze- 
ment. 

"Mrs.  Hahn?"  he  said  questioningly. 

"She  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  guess 
I  am  of  age."  Then,  as  he  continued  to  ob- 
ject, she  went  on,  "I  'd  like  to  know  how  you  'd 
get  on  here  without  any  help?  Tell  me  that 
now. ' ' 

"But  how  did  you  come?" 

"I  came  down  the  back  alley,  if  you  want  to 
know,  Eichard  Burton." 

"The  Hahns  don't  know,  then!" 


70  THE    UPSTART 

"No,  they  don't.  That  reminds  me  I  must 
find  some  way  to  tell  them." 

Miss  Lucy  took  a  black  wood  coal  from  the 
stove,  tore  a  big  sheet  of  white  paper  from 
one  of  Mrs.  Burton's  kitchen  shelves  and  wrote 
on  it  this  message : 

' '  Judge  Hahn.     I  am  here.    Lucy. ' ' 

Then  she  took  a  couple  of  pins  from  her 
dress,  walked  through  the  Rectory,  opened  one 
of  the  Main  Street  windows  and  pinned  the 
paper  to  the  window-ledge  outside. 

"There,"  she  said  to  herself,  "I  guess  they 
can  read  that  from  the  street." 

Then  she  went  back  to  the  kitchen,  where  Mr. 
Burton  was  having  an  unsuccessful  encounter 
with  an  egg,  took  the  tin  turner  from  his  hand, 
and  went  to  work. 

"Now,"  she  said,  after  she  had  boiled  some' 
coffee  and  spread  a  place  on  the  kitchen  table, 
"sit  down  and  eat  your  supper.    I  'm  going 
to  look  after  your  mother. ' ' 

"But  are  n't  you  going  to  eat  anything?'' 
asked  the  bewildered  Mr.  Burton. 

"Not  now.  I  'm  going  to  look  after  your 
mother  first,  but  you  eat  your  supper  right 


THE    UPSTART  71 

away.  I  don't  want  two  sick  people  on  my 
hands. ' ' 

Miss  Lucy  found  old  Mrs.  Burton  propped 
up  in  bed.  Her  son  had  made  her  some  badly 
burned  toast  and  a  cup  of  tea  and  she  was 
suffering  less  from  the  disease  than  from  lack 
of  womanly  attention. 

"Why,  Lucy!"  the  old  woman  cried  from 
the  bed. 

"I  Ve  come  down  to  take  care  of  you,  Mrs. 
Burton,"  declared  Miss  Lucy,  "and  you  're 
not  to  talk  or  worry  about  anything.  Let  me 
take  that  burned  stuff  away  and  get  you  some- 
thing fit  to  eat. ' ' 

Presently  Judge  Hahn,  driving  hurriedly 
down  Main  Street  in  search  of  some  clue  to  his 
sister's  whereabouts,  was  told  by  a  neighbor 
of  the  sign  pinned  to  the  front  of  the  Rectory. 
Miss  Lucy's  message  struck  the  comic  note, 
the  more  by  contrast  with  the  general  dread 
which  prevailed— and  the  man  who  told  of  it 
startled  gloomy  Main  Street  with  the  sound  of 
unaccustomed  laughter.  Judge  Hahn,  him- 
self, driving  on  to  the  Rectory,  smiled  broadly 
at  the  means  which  Miss  Lucy  had  adopted  to 


72  THE    UPSTART 

notify  her  relatives.  He  read  the  message 
with  a  chuckle  and  stopped  long  enough  to 
catch  a  sight  of  Miss  Lucy  herself,  peering 
out  of  an  upper  window.  He  shook  his  fist  at 
her  playfully,  then  turned  and  carried  the 
news  back  to  his  wife. 

"Will  she  corne  through  it  alive?"  wailed 
Mrs.  Hahn.  "And  what  will  people  say?" 

"  We  '11  hope  so,"  answered  the  Judge. 
"And  what  people  say  does  n't  make  much 
difference  at  a  time  like  this. ' ' 

Miss  Lucy  took  hold  of  affairs  at  the  Eectory 
with  entirely  competent  hands.  When  Mr. 
Burton  daily  offered  to  help  her  about  the 
house,  she  relentlessly  drove  him  out  into  the 
churchyard  for  exercise. 

"I  '11  not  have  you  meddling  and  fussing 
about  my  work,"  she  declared.  "I  'd  as  soon 
think  of  writing  your  sermons  for  you.  Go 
out  and  get  some  fresh  air.  That  's  the  way 
you  can  help  me  most." 

In  the  long  evenings,  when  Mrs.  Burton  had 
gone  to  sleep,  they  sat  together  in  the  study, 
the  clergyman  reading  aloud  and  Miss  Lucy 
incessantly  sewing.  She  kept  the  Eectory  in 


THE   UPSTART  73 

a  condition  of  prim  spotlessness  which  was 
half  painful  and  altogether  refreshing. 

As  her  illness  progressed,  old  Mrs.  Burton 
grew  querulous  and  demanded  more  and  more 
of  her  two  attendants.  She  was  greatly  wor- 
ried because,  during  her  illness,  no  flowers 
could  be  placed  on  the  grave  of  her  husband, 
a  labor  of  love  which,  during  the  twenty  years 
since  his  death,  she  had  never  forgotten  for  a 
single  day.  After  a  consultation  with  Dr. 
Jackson,  who  drove  through  the  streets  in  a 
closed  buggy,  the  few  wayfarers  scattering  to 
get  out  of  the  way,  Miss  Lucy  and  Mr.  Burton 
took  on  themselves  the  acting  of  a  lie. 

"If  she  is  to  get  well,"  the  doctor  said,  "we 
must  save  her  from  worry  of  every  kind. ' ' 

So  Miss  Lucy  one  morning  promised  her 
that  she,  herself,  would  go  to  the  cemetery  and 
take  the  flowers.  Every  morning  thereafter 
she  disappeared  below  stairs,  leaving  Mr.  Bur- 
ton in  the  sick-room,  and  when,  within  ten 
minutes,  Mrs.  Burton  would  call,  complain- 
ingly,  "Lucy!  Dick,  where  'a  Lucy?  She 
should  n't  leave  me  this  way,"  her  son  would 
answer,  "Why,  mother,  Miss  Lucy  's  gone  to 


74  THE    UPSTART 

the  cemetery,  you  know,"  and  the  old  lady 
would  lay  her  head  down  on  the  pillow  again, 
quite  contented. 

When  the  crisis  came,  Mrs.  Burton  grew 
delirious,  and,  while  in  that  condition,  she 
talked  continuously. 

''Dick,"  she  cried  complainingly  one  after- 
noon to  her  son,  "you  promised  me  you  'd 
never  get  married  while  I  lived.  Now  you  Ve 
brought  home  this  strange  woman  as  your 
wife.  I  see  her  there  in  the  window.  It  's 
the  first  time  you  ever  disobeyed  me.  You  're 
a  bad  boy,  Dick.  I  '11  tell  your  father." 

The  doctor  had  left  a  quieting  draught,  and 
after  it  had  been  administered  and  the  old 
lady  had  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep,  Miss  Lucy 
turned  to  the  clergyman. 

' '  Richard  Burton, ' '  she  said,  ' '  so  that  is  the 
reason  you  have  never  married  ? ' ' 

"That  's  one  of  the  reasons,  Miss  Lucy." 

"Well,  it  's  no  reason  at  all.  You  Ve  no 
right  to  spoil  your  life  for  the  sake  of  an 
old  woman's  whim,  even  if  she  is  your  mother. 
You  need  somebody  here  at  the  Rectory.  Look 
at  the  state  I  found  you  in ! " 


THE   UPSTART  75 

"But  that  's  not  the  only  reason.  There  's 
a  difference  of  religious  belief  between  me  and 
the  only  woman  I  want  to  marry." 

"Nonsense!  It  was  never  intended  that 
things  of  that  kind  should  keep  people  apart. 

"But  I  'm  not  sure  the  woman  I  love  loves 
me,"  persisted  Mr.  Burton. 

"Then  ask  her  and  find  out,"  cried  Miss 
Lucy.  "Richard  Burton,  I  do  hate  a  cow- 
ard." 

"I  will  ask  her,"  said  the  clergyman,  tightly 
gripping  both  arms  of  his  chair.  '  *  Lucy,  will 
you  be  my  wife!" 

In  an  agony  of  shame  and  blushes,  Miss 
Lucy  stared  at  him  with  startled  eyes.  "Oh, 
Oh,  I  hate  you,"  she  sobbed. 

The  clergyman  crossed  to  her  chair  and 
took  one  of  the  hands  which  had  fallen  help- 
less into  her  lap. 

"I  Ve  waited  long  enough,  Lucy,"  he  said. 

"But— your  mother—  "  she  began  to  object. 

"That  is  no  reason  at  all,"  he  quoted  tri- 
umphantly. "I  have  no  right  to  spoil  my 
life." 

"Don't,"  she  pleaded,  turning  away  her 


76  THE    UPSTART 

flaming  face.  "You  know  what  I  meant. 
You  must  n't  shame  an  old  woman  so." 

"Look  at  me,"  he  commanded.  Still  she 
kept  her  face  averted.  ' '  Oh,  Lucy,  dear,  I  do 
hate  a  coward." 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  face  him,  smiling 
through  her  tears.  "I  believe  you  think  I  'm 
afraid  of  you."  And  then,  a  moment  later, 
"You  really  do  need  somebody  to  look  after 
you,  don 't  you  1 ' ' 

At  the  sound  of  voices,  old  Mrs.  Burton 
roused  uneasily  from  her  sleep. 

' '  Dick, ' '  she  called  feebly  from  the  bed.  Her 
son  sprang  to  her  side. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "Lucy  Wilson  has  just 
promised  to  be  my  wife." 

"I  'm  very  glad,"  the  old  woman  answered 
with  an  effort.  l  i  I  Ve  been  worried  about  you, 
Dick."  Suddenly  she  started  up  and  spoke 
again  clearly. 

"Good-bye,  my  children,"  she  said.  "God 
keep  you  both,"  and  was  gone. 

THE  death  of  old  Mrs.  Burton  was  the  last 
death  in  Liberty  from  the  plague.  The  spring 


THE   UPSTART  77 

came  early,  bringing  with  it  almost  unsea- 
sonable hot  weather  and  day  after  day  of 
cleansing  sunshine.  Almost  as  suddenly  as 
it  had  appeared,  the  dread  disease  vanished, 
the  various  quarantines  were  lifted,  the  tent- 
dwellers  moved  back  into  town,  Aunt  Bridget 
came  grimly  back  from  Shantytown  untouched 
by  the  plague  and  the  people  of  Liberty,  under 
the  reaction  from  the  long  weeks  of  dread, 
plunged  into  a  summer  season  of  great  gayety. 


vn 

THE  effects  of  the  great  small-pox  scare 
were  little  felt  in  the  broad  domains  of 
King  Anders.  During  the  winter,  while  the 
disease  raged,  no  member  of  the  family  visited 
Liberty.  But  that  made  small  difference  in 
their  manner  of  life.  At  best  their  visits 
were  few.  And  since  his  discomfiture  in  the 
arson  trial  he  had  stuck  more  closely  than 
ever  to  the  farm.  The  tannery  fire  had  cost 
him  twelve  thousand  dollars,  and,  with  a  deter- 
mination to  retrieve  that  loss,  he  threw  him- 
self with  titanic  energy  into  the  cultivation 
of  his  square  miles  of  land.  His  six  great 
sons  were  fast  growing  up  and  already  each 
of  them  was  equal  in  working  power  to  two 
ordinary  men.  Though  their  father  was  the 
richest  farmer  in  the  northwestern  corner  of 
the  state,  not  one  of  the  boys  had  gone  to 
school  for  a  day  after  he  was  thirteen.  They 

78 


THE   UPSTART  79 

were  huge  hulks  of  men,  with  no  more  knowl- 
edge or  intelligence  than  is  required  properly 
to  fertilize  potato  ground  and  get  the  best 
results  in  the  raising  of  livestock.  Entirely 
without  initiative,  they  worked  in  gear  with 
the  fly-wheel  of  their  father's  driving-power. 
Over  them,  and  the  hired  men  and  women  of 
the  family,  the  King  ruled  with  patriarchal 
power.  He  managed  his  business  affairs  with- 
out counsel  or  consideration  of  others.  And 
there  was  no  one  to  question  his  authority. 

To  this  rule  there  was  one  possible  excep- 
tion. That  was  the  only  daughter,  Antje,  now 
a  girl  of  sixteen.  It  was  one  of  the  freaks 
of  heredity  that,  while  she  inherited  no  trace 
of  physical  likeness  to  her  father,  to  her  alone 
of  all  the  family  should  have  descended  the 
King's  masterful  spirit  and  determined  will. 
In  her  short  and  slender  figure,  her  red-gold 
hair  and  deep-blue  eyes,  she  harked  back  to 
some  far-off  Teutonic  ancestor,— shining  like 
a  flower  amid  the  glowering  swarthiness  of  her 
great  brothers— while  in  the  temper  of  her 
mind  the  shrewd  old  father  early  recognized 
a  minature  reproduction  of  himself.  For  her 


80  THE    UPSTART 

alone  among  his  children  King  Anders  was 
forced  to  feel  a  sincere,  if  half-unwilling, 
respect.  He  recognized  the  likeness  to  him- 
self in  the  girl  and  his  self-esteem  was  so 
great  that  nothing  else  was  needed  to  produce 
affection.  So  far  as  tenderness  was  possible 
to  him,  she  was  its  object. 

One  day,  not  long  after  the  unexpected  out- 
come of  the  arson  trial,  he  and  his  daughter 
were  working  together  about  the  cow-stable. 
Antje  stopped  to  admire  a  beautiful  black  and 
white  Friesian  heifer,  which  the  King  had  re- 
cently imported. 

"She  shall  be  yours,  Antje,"  said  the  old 
man.  And  Antje  named  the  heifer  Tulip  and 
fed  and  groomed  the  pretty  animal  with  her 
own  hands. 

One  day  in  the  following  summer  the  King 
announced  at  dinner,  "Luders  has  bought 
Tulip  for  two  hundred  dollars.  It  's  a  good 
sale. ' ' 

"But  you  shan't  sell  her,"  said  his  daughter. 

"  No  ? "  sneered  the  King.     ; '  For  why  not  ? " 

' '  Because  she  is  not  yours  to  sell.  You  gave 
her  to  me  last  spring." 


THE   UPSTART  81 

'  *  Bah !  That  was  a  good  joke  yet !  I  guess, 
maybe  so,  I  sell  my  own  cattle. ' ' 

"You  shall  not  sell  Tulip,"  repeated  the 
girl  stubbornly. 

"Luders  will  be  here  for  her  to-morrow 
morning  yet,"  said  the  King,  in  a  tone  of 
finality. 

Next  morning  Antje  refused  to  go  to  school. 
Instead,  she  sat  at  the  kitchen  window,  until 
she  saw  Luders  drive  up  to  the  horse-barn, 
where  her  father  was  at  work.  Then  she 
slipped  quietly  out  to  the  cow-stable,  taking 
with  her  a  turnip  and  a  bottle  of  white  powder. 
Outside  the  barn  she  stopped  long  enough  to 
hear  Luders  say  that  he  had  brought  the 
money  to  pay  for  the  heifer  and  was  ready  to 
take  her  away. 

Then  she  hurried  into  the  stable  where  her 
beautiful  pet  was  stalled,  buried  a  lump  of 
powder  in  the  turnip  and  fed  it  to  her,  crying 
as  she  did  so.  Presently  she  heard  her  father 
and  the  other  farmer  approaching.  It  was 
characteristic  of  her  that  she  stood  by  her 
guns. 

"Go  into  the  house,  Antje,"  ordered  the 


82  THE    UPSTART 

King,  anxious  to  avoid  a  scene.  He  might 
have  spared  himself  the  anxiety.  The  girl 
was  dry-eyed  and  calm. 

"I  said  you  should  not  sell  Tulip,"  she  said, 
quietly.  "I  have  fed  her  poison." 

The  old  King  sprang  forward  in  a  fury,  his 
arm  raised  to  strike.  But  Luders  restrained 
him.  "Not  that  little  girl,  Anders,"  he  said. 

"Go  into  the  house!"  roared  her  father. 
"I  will  teach  you  yet!" 

The  two  men  waited  long  enough  to  see  that 
the  little  girl  had  told  the  truth.  Then  Anders 
returned  the  money  and  Luders  drove  away, 
concealing  an  admiring  grin  beneath  his  beard. 

"That  little  girl  of  Anders'  ain't  afraid  of 
him  yet,"  he  told  his  wife  admiringly. 

Anders  walked  grimly  back  to  the  house, 
stopping  to  cut  three  willow  switches.  He 
knew  how  to  teach  his  women  folks  the  danger 
of  rebellion  against  his  authority!  But  alas 
for  the  King;  rebellion  had  already  spread  to 
an  astounding  quarter! 

"Antje,  come  here!"  he  called,  throwing 
open  the  kitchen  door.  Perhaps  he  had  ex- 
pected that  the  girl  would  be  in  hiding,  but 


THE   UPSTART  83 

she  rose  directly  from  her  chair  to  face  him. 
The  sight  of  her  fearlessness  lashed  his 
rage. 

"I  teach  you  to  kill  my  cattle!"  he  roared 
and  raised  his  switches  to  strike.  But  at  that 
moment  his  wife  clutched  him  firmly  about 
the  arm  with  both  hands. 

Actually  it  was  beyond  his  comprehension. 
For  thirty  years  his  wife  and  servant!  Not 
once  had  she  dared  to  oppose  his  slightest 
wish ;  his  whole  conception  of  life  tottered ! 

He  tried  to  shake  her  off,  but  she  only  clung 
the  tighter,  crying,  "Ander,  you  must  n't 
strike  her!"  Then  his  rage  mastered  him 
and  he  turned  and,  with  his  left  hand  gave  his 
wife  a  savage  push,  almost  a  blow.  The  great 
strength  of  his  arm  sent  her  flying  across  the 
room.  Her  foot  caught  on  a  chair  and,  fall- 
ing, her  head  struck  the  edge  of  the  table.  She 
dropped  to  the  floor  motionless,  a  tiny  trickle 
of  blood  flowing  from  her  temple. 

With  all  his  hardness,  the  thought  of  strik- 
ing a  woman — his  own  wife,  the  mother  of  his 
children— unmanned  him.  The  sight  of  the 
prostrate  body  sent  a  chill  over  him.  His 


84  THE    UPSTART 

anger  gave  way  to  a  sickening,  shameful  fear. 
He  felt  weak  as  a  child. 

As  her  mother  fell,  Antje  rushed  to  her. 
She  knelt  down  and  loosed  the  dress  about  her 
throat. 

' '  Put  her  on  the  bed, ' '  she  said  to  the  King. 
He  lifted  the  prostrate  woman  in  his  great 
arms  and  carried  her  into  the  adjoining  room. 

"Now  open  the  window  and  get  some 
water. ' ' 

Like  a  child  he  obeyed.  When  he  came  back 
his  wife  had  recovered  consciousness.  She 
looked  up  at  him  but  said  nothing.  There  was 
no  reproach,  hardly  recognition  in  her  eyes. 

"I  '11  go  for  the  doctor, ' '  the  old  King  whis- 
pered, leaning  over. 

"Don't  waste  money  on  such  foolishness," 
said  the  old  woman,  lifting  her  head  from  the 
pillow.  ' '  I  don 't  need  a  doctor. ' ' 

She  was  quoting  the  King's  own  words  and 
they  cut  him  like  a  knife.  Without  answering 
he  left  the  room  and  started  toward  Liberty 
for  the  physician,  with  his  fastest  horse  on  the 
gallop.  He  covered  the  twelve  miles  to  town 
and  back  in  an  hour  and  a  half. 


THE   UPSTART  85 

"Must  be  somebody  dying  at  King  An- 
ders ', ' '  said  the  farmers  along  the  road,  when 
they  saw  him  dash  by.  "It  's  the  first  time 
he  's  had  a  doctor  in  ten  years." 

When  Anders  and  the  physician  came  into 
the  house  his  wife  was  sitting  in  an  arm-chair, 
with  Antje  beside  her.  "Mother  fell  and  cut 
her  head  on  the  table,"  said  the  girl,  before 
any  questions  had  been  asked.  "Father  was 
worse  scared  than  he  needed  to  have  been. ' ' 

The  speech  brought  both  relief  and  shame 
to  the  King.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 
felt  himself  in  the  power  of  another— this  slen- 
der girl  with  the  fearless  blue  eyes— his  own 
daughter. 

Mrs.  Anders'  injuries  were  not  serious.  In 
a  few  days  she  was  about  her  work  as  usual. 
The  events  of  the  day  were  never  referred  to 
by  any  member  of  the  family.  In  a  month  or 
two  the  King  began  to  feel  again  absolute 
master  of  himself  and  of  his  household. 

One  evening  he  came  home  with  an  offer  of 
marriage  for  his  daughter.  It  had  been  ar- 
ranged during  the  day  between  himself  and 
old  Piet  Krager,  his  greatest  rival  in  the 


86  THE   UPSTAET 

county  as  a  lord  of  the  land.  Krager  had  six 
daughters  and  an  only  son;  with  Anders  the 
case  was  reversed.  One  of  Krager 's  daughters 
had  recently  married  and  with  her  had  gone 
one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  her  father's 
land.  Anders— with  marriageable  sons  at 
home— felt  that  so  much  had  been  lost  to  him. 
He  was  the  readier  to  begin  negotiations 
when  Krager  suggested  it. 

"Antje,"  the  King  said  to  his  wife,  when 
he  found  her  alone  in  the  kitchen  that  evening, 
"Piet  Krager  wants  our  girl  to  marry  his 
son  Piet." 

"But  Antje  is  so  young,"  objected  she. 

"How  old  were  you  when  we  married1?"  he 
answered. 

"Is  he  a  good  boy!  Would  he  be  good  by 
Antje?  I  hardly  know  him  yet." 

"Not  like  our  boys,"  the- old  man  admitted. 
"Not  such  a  good  farmer.  He  has  been  by 
the  business  college  in  town  and  such  fo.olish- 
ness.  But  Piet  will  give  six  hundred  and 
forty  acres  of  land.  Also  our  Ander  and 
Klaas  get  two  Krager  girls  for  wives  and  half 
as  much  land." 


THE    UPSTART  87 

"Ask  Antje,"  his  wife  suggested. 

"Young  Piet  Krager  wants  you  for  wife," 
the  King  said  bluntly,  when  the  girl  came 
into  the  room. 

"He  is  a  smart  boy,"  she  answered.  "I 
should  be  ashamed  to  marry  him,  I  know  so 
little.  He  has  been  to  the  business  college. ' ' 

"Ander,"  his  wife  broke  in  timidly,  "Antje 
wants  to  go  away  to  boarding-school  yet  first 
a  little  once. ' ' 

The  King  started  to  bluster,  but  the  memory 
of  that  other  scene  in  the  kitchen  restrained 
him. 

"She  has  gone  always  to  school,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  answered  his  wife  proudly,  "but 
Antje  knows  already  so  much  as  the  teacher. 
She  can  learn  her  nothing  yet. ' ' 

King  Anders  had  never  paid  any  attention 
to  the  management  of  the  little  red  school- 
house  which  stood  on  one  corner  of  his  own 
land.  Any  teacher  was  good  enough  to  give 
his  boys  the  scrap  of  learning  they  required. 
But  now,  with  a  shrewd  plan  in  his  mind,  he 
held  several  conferences  with  the  smaller 
farmers  in  the  neighborhood,  who  served  as 


88  THE    UPSTART 

members  of  the  school-board.  One  evening 
he  came  home  with  an  announcement  which 
he  felt  would  put  an  effectual  damper  on  the 
extravagant  idea  of  sending  Antje  away  to 
school. 

"The  school-board  has  hired  a  new  man 
teacher, ' '  he  told  his  wife  and  daughter,  ' '  and 
he  's  a  smart  one.  I  guess,  maybe  so,  he  can 
learn  Antje  a  few  things  yet.  He  begins  Mon- 
day morning  already." 

"We  will  see  yet,"  answered  Mrs.  Anders. 
Neither  she  nor  her  daughter  made  any 
further  comment. 

^he  next  week  the  new  teacher  took  charge 
of  the  little  school-house  and  Antje  went  over 
to  begin  her  studies  under  him.  The  new 
teacher  was  Pat  McCormick. 


VIII 

r  I  THE  school-house  stood  at  one  corner  of 
J-  the  cross-roads  which  separated  four 
sections  of  the  Anders  land.  Behind  it  and 
across  the  road  to  the  right  grew  thick  groves 
of  tall  oak  and  maple  trees,  fringed  about  the 
edges  with  hazel  brush  and  sumac.  In  front  a  fat 
black  corn-field,  punctuated  with  regular  green 
dots,  stretched  away  over  a  slope  of  the  hill 
to  the  horizon.  To  the  left  was  a  great  pas- 
ture, light  green  with  the  first  tender  grass, 
against  which  sleek  black  and  white  banded 
cattle  stood  out  in  high  relief. 

The  school  lot  was  inclosed  by  a  rail  fence, 
in  the  angles  of  which  grew  blue-bells  and  tall 
white  cups  of  the  trillium.  A  big  locust  tree 
stood  on  either  side  the  revolving  stile  which 
closed  the  entrance,  and  from  it  a  deeply  worn 
path  led  to  the  little  faded,  red  building,  stand- 
ing back  from  the  road  under  the  shadow 
of  a  towering  elm. 

89 


90  THE    UPSTART 

When  the  new  teacher  reached  the  cross- 
roads on  the  first  Monday  morning,  the  chil- 
dren, already  arrived,  looked  up  quickly  with 
open  mouths  and  shy  curiosity  in  their  eyes. 
A  few  of  them  bowed  awkwardly;  others 
looked  quickly  down  in  confusion,  digging 
their  bare  toes  into  the  dirt.  Pat  unlocked 
the  door  leading  to  the  front  entry,  while  the 
pupils  gathered  in  little  groups  outside,  await- 
ing the  teacher's  summons.  • 

Inside  the  single  school-room  there  were 
twenty  little  battered  desks,  with  a  pine  table 
on  a  raised  platform  at  one  end  for  the 
teacher.  Along  one  side  of  the  room  ran  a 
cracked  and  badly  worn  black-board.  On  the 
other  wall  hung,  in  solitary  state,  a  wood- 
engraving  representing  a  very  large  "Wash- 
ington crossing  the  Delaware  in  the  midst 
of  very  small  and  fragile  cakes  of  ice. 

Presently  the  teacher  tapped  the  hand-bell 
which  stood  on  his  table  and  the  pupils  came 
straggling  in.  They  came  by  twos  and 
threes,  holding  hands  as  if  for  mutual  pro- 
tection against  an  ambushed  foe.  All  alike 
were  barefooted.  The  girls  wore  blue  or 


THE   UPSTART  91 

brown  checked  gingham  dresses,  made  in  a 
single  piece,  with  their  light  hair  twisted  in 
little  braids  which  hung  down  on  either  side 
their  faces.  The  long,  baggy  and  patched 
trousers  of  the  boys  were  supported  by  single 
suspenders,  crossing  their  blue  cotton  shirts. 
The  smallest  took  the  desks  in  front.  At  the 
very  rear  sat  the  biggest  boy  of  all,  an  over- 
grown lout  with  a  heavy,  sullen  face.  The 
desk  across  the  aisle  from  him  was  occupied 
by  a  slender  girl,  apparently  older  than  the 
others.  Her  pink  calico  dress  did  not  conceal 
the  budding  curves  of  her  figure.  Her  thick 
red-gold  hair  hung  in  a  single  braid. 

As  the  new  teacher  glanced  quickly  about 
the  room  most  of  the  pupils  dropped  their 
eyes  shyly.  Only  the  girl  in  the  back  row 
met  his  gaze  fearlessly.  On  her  face  was  an 
expression  of  curious  hostility.  This  was  the 
new  teacher  who  had  come  between  her  and 
her  dream  of  going  away  to  school,  and  al- 
though unconscious  of  his  guilt  in  that  direc- 
tion, Pat  McCormick  was  quick  to  see  that 
she  did  not  look  upon  him  with  favor. 

"Will  each  of  you  please  give  me  his  name," 


92  THE   UPSTART 

he  said,  "  beginning  with  the  little  boy  in  the 
first  row." 

The  little  boy  in  the  first  row  gave  no  sign 
of  comprehension.  To  the  repeated  question 
he  still  remained  dumb.  A  giggle  broke  out 
and  swept  round  the  room.  Only  the  girl  in 
the  rear  seat  remained  silent,  though  a  twinkle 
of  amusement  shone  in  her  wide  blue  eyes. 
Pat  stepped  down  from  the  platform  and 
leaned  over  the  little  boy's  desk. 

' '  What  is  your  name  ? "  he  asked.  The  child 
glanced  up  in  apparent  terror,  then  tried  to 
wiggle  down  under  the  desk,  crying  piteo.usly. 
The  giggles  broke  into  open  laughter,  the  chil- 
dren covering  their  mouths  with  their  hands 
and  twisting  with  delight. 

Pat  glanced  at  the  girl  in  the  rear  seat. 

"The  little  boy  can't  understand  English." 
She  smiled,  as  if  she  enjoyed  his  discomfiture. 
"He  speaks  only  low  Dutch." 

Pat  walked  back  to  her  desk.  "Give  me 
your  name,  please." 

"Antje  Anders." 

It  came  to  him  like  a  flash  that  this  was  the 
daughter  of  his  ancient  enemy,  who*  had  driven 


THE   UPSTART  93 

his  mother  from  her  home  in  Killgrubbin, 
whose  tannery  his  father  had  burned.  When 
he  had  been  engaged  to  teach  the  Silver  Creek 
school  the  name  of  the  old  King  had  never 
been  mentioned.  This  was  his  first  intimation 
that  any  of  the  Anders'  children  were  to  be 
among  his  pupils. 

Close  behind  him  sounded  a  suppressed 
chuckle.  He  turned  quickly  to  see  the  fingers 
of  the  big  boy  on  the  other  side  retreating 
from  a  derisive  gesture. 

" Stand  up,  sir,"  he  ordered.  The  boy  sul- 
lenly started  to  rise.  Perhaps  the  deep  bass 
voice  impressed  him.  Then  he  hesitated  and 
sullenly  sank  down  again  into  his  seat. 

Pat's  fingers  clutched  the  collar  of  his  blue 
shirt  and  a  jerk  landed  its  wearer  on  his  knees 
in  the  aisle.  Another  pull  helped  him  to  his 
feet. 

"Come  to  the  platform,"  ordered  the  new 
teacher,  leading  the  way  with  one  hand  still 
firmly  clutching  the  collar.  The  big  boy, 
towering  a  head  above  the  teacher,  obeyed  un- 
resisting, apparently  stupefied  by  the  quick- 
ness of  the  fate  which  had  befallen  him.  The 


94  THE   UPSTART 

giggles  were  stilled  now.  A  silent  awe 
brooded  over  the  school-room.  Open  mouths 
and  staring  eyes  paid  their  tribute  of  respect. 
Only  in  the  face  of  Antje  Anders,  Pat  still 
caught  a  twinkle  of  amusement,  not  unmixed 
with  a  touch  of  appreciation.  She  also  had 
a  will  of  her  own. 

The  big  boy— his  name  was  Hoppy  Hoppens 
—was  given  the  front  desk  and  the  small  Hol- 
lander transferred  to  the  rear. 

"Miss  Anders,"  said  Pat,  "will  you  help 
me  with  this  little  'fellow?  He  '11  need  an 
interpreter. ' ' 

The  girl  blushed  charmingly.  It  was  the 
first  time  she  had  ever  been  so  addressed  and 
she  liked  it.  She  went  to  work  with  her  small 
countryman  and  Pat  busied  himself  with  the 
other  children. 

When  recess  came  Pat  called  Antje  Anders 
to  his  table.  "Thank  you  for  helping  me," 
he  said.  "Now  we  'd  better  see  about  your 
own  studies.  How  far  have  you  gone  in  arith- 
metic?" 

Pat  noticed  that  Antje,  like  all  the  other 
pupils,  was  bare-footed.  She  called  the  fact 


THE    UPSTART  95 

to  his  attention  by  her  efforts  to  conceal  her 
slender,  brown  ankles  with  her  skirts.  As 
he  looked  at  her  thick,  reddish-gold  hair  and 
the  smooth,  even  whiteness  of  her  skin,  he 
wondered  whether  he  might  not  be  mistaken 
in  his  conclusion  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  King  Anders.  He  dimly  recalled  Anders 
as  a  glowering  black  giant  of  a  man.  Surely 
this  slim,  dainty  girl  could  not  be  his  child. 

"I  've  gone  clear  through  White's  Inter- 
mediate," Antje  answered  to  the  teacher's 
question.  She  spoke  a  trifle  proudly,  expect- 
ing that  this  announcement  would  discomfort 
him.  White's  Intermediate  had  marked  the 
furthest  boundary  of  the  former  teacher's 
mathematical  knowledge. 

"Then  we  '11  begin  algebra." 

Pat  caught  the  unwilling  look  of  respect 
which  came  into  the  girl's  face.  It  pleased 
him  greatly  and  he  blessed  Mr.  Burton  for 
the  year  of  study  which  had  made  him  master 
of  the  mysteries  of  "x"  plus  "y." 

"I  expect  to  go  to  Bickford  Seminary  in 
the  Fall,"  said  the  girl,  shyly,  voicing  for  the 
first  time,  except  to  her  mother,  the  plan  on 


96  THE    UPSTART 

which  she  had  set  her  heart.  She  wished, 
for  some  sub-conscious,  unrealized  reason,  to 
have  the  new  teacher  understand  that  she, 
too,  had  intellectual  ambitions;  that  she  was 
not  content  with  the  narrow  boundaries  of 
White's  Intermediate. 

"Then  if  you  '11  bring  the  catalog  for  the 
school  we  '11  prepare  for  the  entrance  exam- 
inations. ' ' 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  smiling  a  little. 
Pat,  glancing  down  at  his  watch,  was  startled 
to  see  that  the  ten  minutes  allowed  for  recess 
had  more  than  gone  by. 

"We  '11  talk  it  over  again,"  he  said  as  he 
tapped  the  bell. 

That  evening,  after  supper,  King  Anders 
casually  questioned  his  daughter  about  the 
new  teacher. 

"How  goes  it,  Antje?"  he  asked.  "Ain't 
that  new  teacher  a  smart  one  yet?" 

"Oh,  I  guess  so,"  she  replied  indifferently. 
Next  morning  she  surprised  her  mother  by 
insisting  upon  wearing  her  Sunday  shoes  and 
stockings  to  school. 

Pat's  first  month  as  master  of  the  Silver 


THE   UPSTART  97 

Creek  school  went  by  swiftly.  Outside  in  the 
elm  gorgeous  orioles  and  scarlet  tanagers 
sang  and  worked  at  their  nests.  From  the 
pasture-lands  came  the  low  of  feeding  cattle 
and  the  droning  hum  of  bees  busy  about  the 
clover.  Through  the  open  windows  of  the 
little  school-house  the  soft  airs  of  spring  wan- 
dered, bringing  with  them  the  fragrance  of 
the  flowering  locust.  Now  and  then  a  quail 
slipped  out  from  the  fields  and  perched  on 
the  rail  fence  to  call  "Bob  White,"  and  once, 
even,— so  quiet  and  remote  was  the  place — 
Pat,  glancing  out  of  a  window,  saw  a  red 
fox  creep  from  the  hazel  brush  and  stand  with 
one  front  paw  uplifted  and  head  on  side, 
alert  for  danger,  before  trotting  across  the 
school  lot  to  the  other  woods. 

Every  Friday  afternoon  Pat  walked  into 
town  to  spend  Sunday  with  his  mother  and 
Aunt  Bridget  and  every  Friday  he  took  with 
him  a  clearer  picture  of  his  most  charming 
pupil.  Did  he  like  her  better  in  the  pink  calico 
and  bare  ankles,  as  he  had  seen  her  first— or 
in  the  white  dress,  tied  with  a  sash,  that  came 
a  few  days  later?  It  suddenly  dawned  on  him 


98  THE    UPSTART 

that  he  was  growing  sentimental  and  he  be- 
rated himself  for  his  folly.  One  Sunday  he 
fought  it  all  out  with  himself  and  decided  very 
properly  that  he  would  forget  Antje  entirely, 
or,  since  that  was  impossible  as  long  as  she 
was  one  of  his  pupils,  he  would  look  upon  her 
only  in  the  impersonal  light  of  an  unusually 
good  student. 

But,  on  the  next  Monday,  when  he  walked 
into  the  school-house,  she  looked  up  at  him 
from  her  desk  and  smiled  so  divinely  that  poor 
Pat  quite  forgot  his  fine  resolutions.  What 
right  had  she,  anyway,  to  do  up  her  hair  in 
that  fetching  way  on  the  top  of  her  head.  .  .  . 
Still,  he  liked  it  better  in  the  long  braid.  * '  The 
school  will  please  come  to  order." 

As  for  the  girl— she  saw  in  the  new  teacher 
a  help  rather  than  a  hindrance  in  her  cherished 
plan  of  going  away  to  school  in  the  Fall.  If 
she  was  conscious  of  his  restrained  admiration 
she  did  not  give  sign  of  it.  Only  a  sly  glance 
now  and  then  in  his  direction,  when  she  thought 
he  was  not  looking,  betrayed  the  fact  that  he 
was  to  her  more  than  a  mere  impersonal  figure 
of  Discipline  and  Knowledge. 


IX 


WHEN  the  young  people  of  Liberty  came 
home  from  college  and  seminary  in  June, 
almost  every  one  of  them  brought  a  guest. 
The  streets  of  the  village  took  on  a  new  tone  of 
youthful  gayety;  parties,  picnics  and  moon- 
light excursions  on  the  river  filled  the  days 
and  nights. 

To  walk  up  elm-shaded  Main  Street  on  one 
of  those  soft  June  evenings  was  to  catch  fas- 
cinating glimpses  of  white  dresses  grouped  on 
the  wide  front  porches,  far  back  from  the 
street,  with  little  spots  of  black  scattered 
among  them;  to  hear  gay  bursts  of  girlish 
laughter,  the  tinkle  of  guitars  and  banjoes  and, 
now  and  then,  the  rollicking  chorus  of  "My 
Bonnie  Lies  Over  the  Ocean"  or  "A  Spanish 
Cavalier,"  soprano  and  boyish  bass  blending 
sweetly  together.  Or,  perhaps,  one  would  meet 
a  cavalcade  of  'busses  and  buggies  filled  with 


99 


100  THE    UPSTAET 

happy  young  people,  and  rattling  down  Main 
Street  and  on  over  the  bridge,  bound  for 
Harshmanville,  where,  in  the  cross-roads  tav- 
ern, ice  cream  and  lemonade  and  a  country 
fiddler  were  waiting. 

And  over  all  hung  the  silver  lamp  of  the 
moon,  which  shines  only  for  youth  and  beauty, 
spilling  its  magic  light  down  through  the  feath- 
ery elms  which  arched  the  streets,  and  chang- 
ing the  little  Illinois  village  into  the  country 
of  immemorial  romance. 

The  Hahns  gave  the  first  party  of  the  season 
on  their  lawn.  Tom  Hahn  had  brought  two 
young  fellows  home  with  him  from  Ann  Arbor 
and  his  sister,  Miss  Jack,  was  hostess  to  three 
of  her  pretty  classmates  at  Bickf  ord  Seminary. 
Pat  McCormick  was  one  of  the  guests  and  he 
was  included,  also,  when,  a  week  later,  the 
Hahns'  new  neighbor,  Andreas  Schumacher, 
sent  out  invitations  for  a  dancing  party. 

Originally  a  German  peasant  from  the  Rhine 
country,  Schumacher's  thrift  and  industry  as 
a  farmer,  aided  by  his  ambitious  wife,  had  en- 
abled him  to  lay  up  what  was  considered  a 
handsome  fortune.  Then,  after  thirty  years' 


THE   UPSTABT  101 

hard  work,  he  had  sold  his  land  and  invested 
his  money  in  a  business  block  on  Main  Street 
and  in  the  residence,  half  a  mile  away. 

Schumacher  never  recovered  from  an  atti- 
tude of  wondering  surprise  at  his  own  success 
in  life.  The  first  thing  he  did,  after  he  bought 
the  down-town  building,  was  to  have  fastened 
to  its  front,  in  gold  letters  two  feet  long,  the 
legend  "Schumacher's  Block";  and  his  favor- 
ite amusement  was  to  sit  on  the  court-house 
steps  opposite  and  admiringly  survey  this  con- 
crete monument  to  his  importance  in  the  com- 
munity. 

He  took  an  even  greater  interest  in  his  new 
house.  First  of  all,  he  added  an  extra  story, 
topped  by  a  fancy  cupola,  and  then  had  the 
whole  creation  painted  in  the  glaring  reds  and 
greens  which  were  at  the  time  the  last  word  in 
the  fine  art  of  house-painting.  Also,  when  a 
sewer  was  laid  down  the  Main  Street  of  Lib- 
erty, old  Schumacher  was  among  the  first  to 
put  in  a  bathroom  and  the  marvel  of  turning 
one  spigot  and  getting  cold  water  and  another, 
just  like  it  and  getting  hot,  was  to  him  a  pe- 
rennial delight. 


102  THE    UPSTART 

Now  the  Schumachers  were  to  give  their  first 
evening  party.  Pauline  Schumacher,  the  only 
child,  was  a  classmate  of  Jack  Hahn  's,  and  the 
list  of  guests  at  the  Hahns '  party  was  taken  as 
a  nucleus  for  the  larger  number  of  young  peo- 
ple who  were  to  be  invited  to  the  Schumacher 
mansion.  The  old  man  insisted  that  the  chil- 
dren of  his  old  neighbors  in  the  country  should 
be  invited.  He  could  not  overlook  this  oppor- 
tunity of  showing  them  the  wonders  of  life  in 
a  great  city. 

With  Miss  Jack  in  the  photon  beside  her, 
Pauline  drove  about  the  village  distributing 
the  cards  of  invitation,  which  had  been  written 
in  his  most  flourishing  style  by  the  principal  of 
the  Liberty  Business  College.  The  two  girls 
even  drove  out  far  into  the  country  and  left  in- 
vitations for  the  Anders  and  Krager  children 
and  their  neighbors. 

Then  there  was  the  silver  to  be  provided  for 
the  supper,  and  a  dozen  neighboring  families 
contributed  from  their  store  to  make  up  the 
necessary  supply.  The  Hahn  silver  was 
marked  by  tying  a  white  thread  to  each  piece, 
that  loaned  by  the  Williamses  with  a  red 


THE    UPSTART  103 

thread,  and  so  on,  each  family  being  assigned 
a  different  color  by  way  of  identification.  From 
all  over  town,  also,  Japanese  lanterns  were 
gathered  up,  until  more  than  a  hundred,  gor- 
geous in  red,  blue  and  yellow  paper  were  ready 
to  shed  light  on  the  coming  festivities. 

Old  Schumacher  and  his  hired  man  worked 
for  days  at  building  the  dancing  platform  in 
the  front  yard,  under  the  boughs  of  a  huge  elm 
tree,  and  Jack  Thompson's  Full  Dress  Orches- 
tra—so called  because  it  had  been  the  first  to 
introduce  clawhammer  coats  in  Liberty — was 
engaged,  two  weeks  in  advance,  to  furnish  the 
music. 

King  Anders  snorted  with  contempt  when 
his  wife  told  him  of  the  invitation  that  had 
come  to  the  boys  and  to  Antje. 

"Our  young  ones  shall  stay  at  home,"  he 
said.  ' '  Schumacher  gets  foolish  in  his  old  age 
already. ' ' 

But  next  day  Antje  went  to  him  and  said, 
"Piet  Krager  wants  me  to  go  with  him  to 
Schumacher's  party,"  and  that  arrangement 
fitted  in  so  well  with  his  own  plans,  he  curtly 
consented. 


104  THE    UPSTART 

It  was  finally  agreed  that  the  children  of  the 
Anders  and  Krager  families  should  go  toge- 
ther, the  head  of  each  furnishing  a  long  wagon 
for  their  conveyance.  But  Piet  Krager,  em- 
phasizing his  position  as  an  only  son,  called  for 
Antje  in  a  buggy,  and  they  started  for  town  at 
seven  o'clock,  an  hour  before  the  time  set  for 
the  opening  of  the  party. 

Piet  Krager  was  a  short,  heavily  built  young 
man  of  twenty-one.  He  had  prepared  for  the 
occasion  by  buying  a  new  suit  of  ready-made 
clothes,  light  green  as  to  background  with 
large  lumps  of  black  scattered  over  the  sur- 
face in  bold  relief.  The  old  French  barber 
in  Liberty  had  cut  his  hair,  parting  it  low  on 
the  left  and  bringing  it  down  in  front  to  two 
sharp  points,  with  the  aid  of  a  little  oil  and 
many  combings.  His  slight  black  moustache 
was  waxed  and  the  ends  turned  down  in  grace- 
ful curves.  His  chin  rested  on  the  top  of  a 
standing  collar,  too  high  for  his  short  neck, 
his  necktie  was  red,  with  black  polka-dots,  and 
his  big  hands  were  covered  with  yellow  driving 
gloves.  He  wore  patent-leather  "pumps," 
above  which  one  might  catch  glimpses  of  lurid 
red  socks  with  black  clocks. 


THE    UPSTART  105 

Piet  rather  dreaded  the  presence  of  so  many 
college  boys  at  the  party,  but  he  had  fortified 
himself  with  whiskey  during  the  afternoon  and 
he  had  a  pint  flask  in  his  hip-pocket  for  use  in 
a  possible  emergency. 

Antje  Anders  was  full  of  excitement  at  the 
thought  of  going  to  her  first  party.  Her  cheeks 
were  as  pink  as  the  ribbons  on  her  white  dress 
when  she  climbed  into  the  buggy.  Piet  laid 
the  whip  to  his  horse  and  it  started  down  the 
lane  on  a  gallop.  With  much  pulling  at  the 
reins  and  a  half -suppressed  curse  he  steadied 
the  beast  to  a  fast  trot.  "She  's  got  a  record 
of  better  than  three  minutes, ' '  he  said. 

"I  should  think  you  'd  be  afraid  she  might 
run  away,"  answered  Antje. 

"I  never  saw  the  horse  yet  I  could  n't 
drive,"  he  boasted,  giving  the  mare  an  extra 
cut  with  the  whip.  "Look  here,  I  can  drive 
her  with  one  hand." 

He  gathered  both  reins  into  his  right  hand 
and  threw  his  left  arm  about  Antje 's  waist. 
The  girl  sat  up  straight,  her  cheeks  crimson. 

"Take  your  arm  away  this  instant,"  she 
commanded. 


106  THE    UPSTAKT 

"Aw,  what  for?"  he  leered,  pressing  her 
closer. 

"There  's  a  man  in  the  road,  right  ahead  of 
us,"  said  Antje,  pointing  out  a  figure  a  few 
rods  away.  Piet  took  the  reins  again  and  they 
drove  by  at  a  fast  trot.  As  they  passed  the 
man  raised  his  hat  and  Antje  gave  him  a  smile 
and  "good-evening." 

"Who  's  that  you  're  smiling  at  so  sweet?" 
demanded  young  Krager. 

' '  He  's  the  teacher  out  at  our  school, ' '  Antje 
answered. 

"He  's  a  little  feller,  ain't  he?"  said  Piet, 
out  of  the  fulness  of  his  self-satisfaction :  "  I  'm 
kind  of  sorry  for  him." 

"You  need  n't  be,"  answered  Antje  hotly. 
' '  He  's  the  smartest  man  I  know.  And  he  can 
teach  some  people  a  lot  about  good  manners." 

"Aw,  Antje,"  said  Piet,  again  throwing  an 
arm  about  her  waist,  "don't  get  cross  by  me. 
We  are  promised  to  each  other  already. ' ' 

"If  you  don't  behave  yourself,  I  '11  get  out 
of  this  buggy,"  the  girl  cried,  her  eyes  flash- 
ing. 

"Come  now,"  persisted  the  fatuous  youth, 
"we  will  kiss  and  make  it  up  yet." 


THE   UPSTART  107 

He  pulled  her  close  to  him  and  touched  her 
cheek  with  his  lips.  Instantly  she  struck  him 
full  in  the  face. 

"By  Grott!"  he  burst  out,  "you  need  n't 
make  no  threats  about  getting  out  of  my  buggy. 
You  get  out  right  this  minute ! ' ' 

He  pulled  up  at  the  side  of  the  road,  and  the 
girl  climbed  down  without  a  word.  Piet  Kra- 
ger  lashed  his  horse  and  drove  on.  Antje 
turned,  and,  with  a  crimson  face,  started  back 
to  her  father's  farm.  Climbing  the  next  hill 
she  met  Pat  McCormick.  He  stopped  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"I  quarreled  with  Piet  Krager.  I  'm  not 
going  to  the  party. ' ' 

"But  you  're  almost  in  town.  Come  to  the 
party  with  me  1 ' ' 

"0,  I  can't.  I  must  go  home.  I  'd  be 
ashamed  to  go  this  way.  .  .  I  hope  you  '11  have 
a  good  time. ' ' 

"Please  come,"  urged  Pat.  "It  's  only  a 
little  way  now.  I  'm  going  with  the  Hahns. 
They  live  next  door  to  the  Schumachers  and 
we  Ve  got  lots  of  time. ' ' 

In  the  end  she  consented.  It  was  her  first 
party  and  the  temptation  was  great. 


108  THE    UPSTART 

Half  a  dozen  young  people  were  sitting  on 
the  Hahns'  front  porch  when  Pat  and  Antje 
walked  up  the  lawn. 

"Our  wagon  broke  down  and  Piet  Krager 
had  to  stay  to  tend  to  the  horses,"  explained 
the  artful  Pat. 

' '  Let  me  take  you,  Miss  Anders  1 ' '  said  Tom 
Hahn.  " Laura  Keene  's  ill  and  can't  go  and 
I  'm  all  alone  in  the  world. ' ' 

So  presently  the  little  party  walked  over 
across  the  closely-clipped  grass  plots,  to  where, 
on  the  platform  under  the  elms,  Schumacher 
and  his  family  stood  to  receive  their  guests. 

"Is  n't  she  a  pretty  girl,  Pat?"  asked  Miss 
Jack,  as  they  followed  in  the  wake  of  her 
brother  and  Antje. 

"  I  'm  thinking  she  's  not  the  only  one, ' '  the 
Irishman  in  Pat  made  answer. 


OLD  man  Schumacher  in  a  long  black  frock 
coat,  his  short  gray  beard  freshly  trimmed 
and  a  broad  white  waistcoat  covering  his  ro- 
tund front,  fairly  exuded  hospitality.  He 
shook  hands  repeatedly  with  everybody  in 
reach  and  he  greeted  each  new  comer  with  a 
hearty  l '  Wie  gehts  ? ' '  His  wife  in  a  new  black 
silk  and  Pauline,  a  slender  girl  in  a  flowered 
muslin,  stood  close  beside  him  and  reinforced 
his  welcome  with  smiles  and  laughter. 

When,  after  an  unmelodious  period  of  tun- 
ing-up,  the  music  finally  began  and  Jack 
Thompson  bellowed  "Take  your  pardners  fer 
the  op'nin'  waltz,"  there  were  more  than  a 
hundred  boys  and  girls  gathered  on  the  lawn, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  mothers  and  other  elderly 
relatives.  These  last  waited  to  catch  a  glance 
of  their  own  especial  darling  as  she  fluttered 
by,  then  hurried  off  to  the  kitchen  to  assist 
Mrs.  Schumacher  in  the  final  arrangements 
for  the  supper. 


109 


110  THE    UPSTART 

Old  Schumacher  insisted  on  dancing  the  first 
waltz  with  his  daughter,  first  removing  his  un- 
accustomed black  coat  and  revealing  himself 
in  all  the  glory  of  stiff  white  shirt-sleeves. 

"But  I  don't  waltz,"  Antje  Anders  said  re- 
gretfully, when  Tom  Hahn  asked  her. 

"0,  you  can't  make  me  believe  that,"  Tom 
answered  laughingly.  "Come  on  anyway. 
I  '11  guide  you  and  we  won't  have  a  bit  of 
trouble. ' ' 

She  let  herself  be  persuaded  into  trying  and 
before  she  knew  it,  she  was  gliding  in  and  out 
among  the  crowd  on  the  platform.  Tom  Hahn 
certainly  knew  how  to  do  things  easily  and 
well. 

"I  was  sure  you  could  do  it,"  he  said  to  her 
when  the  music  had  stopped  and  they  sat  down 
together  on  a  circular  bench  that  ran  around 
a  giant  box-elder  tree.  '  *  Here,  let  me  see  your 
program  before  these  chaps  fill  it  up." 

Tom  Hahn's  college  mates  were  coming  up 
to  ask  for  dances,  but,  before  he  would  give 
up  the  card,  he  insisted  on  putting  down  his 
name  for  the  next  four  round  dances. 

"By  right  of  discovery,"  he  whispered  to 
Antje.  "Besides,  I  'm  your  escort,  you  know." 


THE   UPSTART  HI 

The  other  boys  almost  filled  up  her  card  be- 
fore she  had  fairly  caught  her  breath.  She 
glanced  up  to  see  Pat  McCormick  strolling  by, 
with  Miss  Jack  on  his  arm.  He  certainly  was 
very  short— even  Miss  Hahn  was  slightly 
taller.  And  there  is  nothing  captivating  about 
straight  red  hair  and  freckles. 

'  *  May  I  have  the  next  dance  ? "  It  was  Pat  's 
voice  at  her  elbow. 

1  'I  'm  afraid  it  's  taken,"  she  answered, 
holding  out  her  card. 

"I  thought  you  told  me  you  did  n't  waltz?" 
Pat  flashed  out  as  his  eye  ran  down  the  card. 

"She  was  fooling  thee,"  laughed  Tom  Hahn. 
' '  Miss  Anders  waltzes  like  a  fairy. ' ' 

The  girl's  cheeks  were  pink  and  there  was 
a  new,  wondering  look  of  delight  in  her  big 
blue  eyes. 

"I  did  n't,"  she  stammered,  "but  Mr. 
Hahn-" 

"You  have  n't  got  a  round  dance  left  for 
me, ' '  Pat  broke  in  rudely,  looking  up  from  the 
card.  She  took  it  quickly  from  his  hand. 

"  I  'm  sorry  there  's  nothing  you  want, ' '  she 
said.  Now  her  cheeks  flew  the  red  flag  of 
war. 


112  THE    UPSTART 

"He  's  my  teacher,  you  know,"  Pat  heard 
Antje  say  as  he  turned  away. 

"Well,"  Tom  Hahn  answered,  "he  may 
teach  you  everything  else,  so  long  as  I  teach 
you  to  waltz." 

Pat  found  Miss  Jack  and  her  classmates  and 
was  devoting  himself  savagely  to  their  service 
when  supper  was  announced.  Schumacher  had 
been  in  favor  of  ringing  a  huge  dinner  bell— 
relic  of  his  days  on  the  farm— but  had  finally 
been  persuaded  to  make  the  announcement  ver- 
bally. The  boys  and  girls  gathered  at  little 
tables  on  the  porches  and  under  the  trees, 
where  they  were  served  by  their  own  mothers 
and  aunts.  First  came  fried  chicken,  creamed 
potatoes  and  peas,  followed  by  salad,  sand- 
wiches and  coffee.  Last  of  all,  huge  dishes  of 
home-made  ice-cream,  with  strawberries;  and 
heaped  platters  of  chocolate,  cocoanut  and  jelly 
cake,  in  thick  slices,  were  served. 

Among  the  scattered  tables  wandered  old 
man  Schumacher,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  stopping 
at  each  to  rub  his  hands  in  boisterous  hospital- 
ity as  he  saw  the  awful  ravages  of  youthful 
appetite. 


THE    UPSTART  113 


. . 


'Well,  young  folks,"  was  his  loudly  ex- 
pressed wish  at  each  table,  "here  's  hoping  that 
the  vittles  '11  agree  with  ye ! " 

Supper  over,  the  young  men  were  invited 
into  the  Schumacher  sitting-room,  where,  on 
the  marble-topped  table,  half  a  dozen  open 
boxes  of  cigars  were  resting.  This  was  the  old 
man's  special  field  of  entertainment  and  he 
rose  to  the  occasion.  The  opportunity  to  dis- 
play the  glories  of  his  new  bath-room  was  too 
good  to  be  lost.  When  the  sitting-room  was 
filled  with  smokers  he  threw  open  the  door 
leading  to  his  pride. 

"Now,  gents,"  he  said,  "would  n't  you  like 
a  wash— hot  and  cold  water?" 

Meanwhile  that  portion  of  the  population  of 
Liberty  which  had  not  been  invited  to  the  Schu- 
macher party  was  not  missing  all  its  grandeur. 
Early  in  the  evening  the  crowd  of  the  unin- 
vited had  begun  to  gather  on  the  Main  Street 
sidewalk.  By  the"  time  dancing  began  there 
were  almost  as  many  outside  as  within  the  in- 
visible boundaries.  And  it  may  fairly  be  ques- 
tioned which  had  the  better  time,  for  those  on 
the  outside  were  not  bound  by  the  laws  of  hos- 


114  THE    UPSTART 

pitality  not  to  criticise  the  arrangements,  the 
guests  and  even  the  host  and  hostess,— a  piece 
of  good  fortune  of  which  they  took  full  advan- 
tage. So  that  below  the  shrill  notes  of  Jack 
Thompson's  fiddle  and  the  gay  buzz  of  laughter 
and  talk,  one  might  have  heard,  in  the  outer 
circle,  a  constant  stream  of  comment,  some  of 
it  caustic  and  all  of  it  displaying  an  amazing 
knowledge  of  the  social  secrets  of  the  village. 

When  supper  was  served  the  excitement 
among  the  crowd  outside  was  redoubled.  It 
was  not  easy  from  the  sidewalk  to  be  sure  as  to 
the  exact  items,  and  one  daring  youth,  who,  by 
creeping  through  the  shadows  on  the  lawn,  had 
secured  a  near  view  of  a  table  and  brought  back 
a  complete  list  of  everything  served,  was  in 
great  demand. 

'  *  That  's  more  'n  they  had  at  the  Hahns '  or 
the  Williamses',"  was  one  comment.  "I  call 
this  a  real  swell  party." 

And  that  was  the  general' verdict  of  the  unin- 
vited. Kind-hearted  Mrs.  Schumacher,  find- 
ing that  she  had  prepared  much  more  fried 
chicken  and  ice-cream  than  even  the  youthful 
appetites  of  her  guests  demanded,  sent  out 


THE   UPSTART  115 

twenty  heaping  platesful  to  the  sidewalk  and 
that  made  the  verdict  certain  beyond  all  chance 
of  appeal. 

While  the  last  extra  was  being  danced,  Tom 
Hahn  hunted  up  Pat  McCormick. 

1 1  Come  and  help  me  hitch  up  the  surrey, ' '  he 
said,  "I  'm  going  to  drive  you  and  Miss  An- 
ders home." 

"I  '11  walk,"  Pat  answered  sulkily. 

*  *  0,  nonsense ! ' '  laughed  Tom  Hahn.  * '  Walk 
six  miles  when  I  'm  going  right  out  there! 
Come  on!" 

Tom  helped  Antje  Anders  up  to  the  front 
seat  of  the  surrey.  Pat  sat  on  the  back  seat, 
with  pretty  Miss  Jack  beside  him.  So  they 
drove  out  over  the  moonlit  country  roads,  Pat 
displaying  the  most  astonishing  high  spirits, 
while  from  the  front  seat  there  came  to  his 
strained  ears  only  occasional  low  ripples  of 
laughter  and  the  sibilant  murmur  of  confiden- 
tial voices. 

Everything  was  dark  when  they  reached  the 
Anders  farm-house.  Tom  Hahn  jumped  down 
and  helped  Antje  to  alight  with  much  more 
care  than  seemed  to  Pat  at  all  necessary.  Then 


116  THE    UPSTART 

Miss  Jack  leaned  over  from  the  surrey  and 
bade  her  a  cordial  good-bye. 

"We  all  want  to  see  a  lot  more  of  you  this 
summer,"  she  said. 

And  Pat  had  to  be  content  with  a  casual 
"good-night"  which  Antje  called  over  her 
shoulder  as  she  turned  to  enter  the  house. 

The  farm  where  Pat  happened  to  be  board- 
ing that  month  was  half  a  mile  farther  out  the 
river  road. 

* '  Well,  Pat, ' '  said  Tom  as  the  surrey  turned 
the  first  corner,  "your  little  Dutch  girl  was  the 
belle  of  the  ball  all  right." 

1 '  Yes,  Miss  Anders  did  seem  to  be  popular, ' ' 
answered  Pat  dryly,  furiously  angry  at  the 
familiarity  which  so  lightly  called  her  ' l  a  little 
Dutch  girl." 

"She  's  just  as  pretty  and  sweet  as  she  can 
be,"  Miss  Jack  burst  out  enthusiastically. 
"Her  father  owns  whole  townships  of  land 
about  here,"  she  added  thoughtfully. 

"Tom,"  his  sister  asked,  a  moment  later, 
after  Pat  had  been  let  out  at  the  gate  of  his 
boarding  place,  "what  in  the  world  was  the 
matter  with  Pat  McCormick  to-night!" 


THE   UPSTART  117 

1  'Oh,  I  don't  know,"  answered  the  careless 
youth,  "I  reckon  he  is  n't  quite  used  to  going 
to  parties." 

As  for  Pat  McConnick,  he  lay  down  to  sleep 
in  the  hay-mow,  rather  than  rouse  the  farm- 
house, all  unconscious  of  the  storm  which  was 
about  to  break  over  his  head. 


XI 


PAT  woke  early  and  went  into  the  house  for 
his  breakfast.    Then  he  walked  over  to  the 
school-house  and  called  his  pupils  to  order. 
Antje  Anders  was  not  present. 

All  morning  his  mind  was  on  what  had  hap- 
pened the  night  before — chiefly  he  thought 
about  Antje.  Was  she  ill?  Was  her  father 
angry  with  her  for  not  having  gone  to  the 
party  with  Piet  Kragerf  In  a  way  he  was 
responsible  for  that.  At  least,  but  for  him, 
she  would  have  gone  home  after  getting  out  of 
the  buggy.  He  would  go  over  to  the  Anders' 
house  and  take  the  blame  on  himself.  It 
was  n  't  her  fault,  after  all,  that  Tom  Hahn  and 
his  college  friends  had  filled  up  her  dancing 
program.  And  he  had  behaved  like  a  fool— he 
was  sure  of  that  now.  He  must  see  her  and  ex- 
plain and  ask  her  to  forgive  him.  He  could 

hardly  wait  for  the  time  to  dismiss  school. 

us 


THE   UPSTART  119 

Antje  was  still  asleep  when  the  Anders  fam- 
ily sat  down  to  their  early  breakfast. 

' '  Where  's  the  girl  I ' '  asked  the  old  King. 

( 'Still  asleep,"  answered  the  mother.  "She 
did  n  't  get  home  till  late  yet. ' ' 

"That  's  the  way  with  such  foolishness," 
said  the  King.  "Ander"— indicating  his  eld- 
est son— "and  I  go  by  town  with  some  hogs. 
We  won't  be  back  till  night." 

Half  an  hour  later  old  Piet  Krager  drove  up 
to  the  Anders  house. 

"Where  is  my  son,  Piet?"  he  demanded  of 
Mrs.  Anders,  who  opened  the  door  to  him. ' ;  He 
has  not  come  home  from  that  party." 

"I  have  yet  no  idea,"  the  old  woman  an- 
swered, wiping  her  red  hands  on  her  apron. 
"Antje  is  asleep.  She  got  back  at  three  o 'clock 
this  morning  already." 

"My  girls  did  not  see  their  brother  at  the 
party,"  persisted  Krager.  "Your  girl  was 
there  and  was  all  the  time  dancing  with  those 
town  dudes.  I  want  to  know  where  my  boy, 
Piet,  is  yet?" 

"Wait.    I  wake  up  Antje  and  ask  her." 


120  THE    UPSTAET 

The  sleeping  girl  woke  with  a  start  when  her 
mother  shook  her  gently  by  the  arm. 

' '  Old  Krager  is  here  looking  for  Piet, ' '  said 
Mrs.  Anders.  ' '  He  has  not  come  home.  Where 
did  you  leave  him  yet?" 

"I  did  n't  go  to  the  party  with  Piet  Kra- 
ger," she  said,  sitting  up  in  her  bed.  "He 
kissed  me  and  I  slapped  him.  Then  he  made 
me  get  out  of  his  buggy.  I  met  the  school- 
teacher and  went  with  him.  I  don't  know 
where  Piet  Krager  is  and  I  don't  care." 

"This  will  make  plenty  trouble  by  your 
father,  AmVje,"  said  the  old  woman,  shaking 
her  head.  "I  go  tell  Krager." 

' '  Ant je  did  n  't  go  by  the  party  by  your  son, ' ' 
she  told  the  old  man  waiting  at  the  door.  ' l  He 
got  fresh  by  her  and  she  got  out  of  his  buggy. 
She  don't  know  where  he  is  yet." 

"So,"  said  old  Krager  in  an  ugly  tone. 
"Mine  son  is  not  good  enough  for  her,  huh? 
We  see  about  that  yet !  You  better  look  a  little 
out  for  your  girl.  Where  is  Anders  ? ' ' 

"He  is  in  town,"  flared  up  the  old  woman, 
' '  and  he  make  you  eat  what  you  say  bad  about 
our  girl  with  a  pitchfork  yet.  Antje  went  to 
the  party  with  the  school-teacher.  When  you 


THE    UPSTART  121 

look  after  that  boy  Piet,  it  will  keep  you  plenty 
busy. ' ' 

Muttering  to  himself,  Krager  climbed  to  his 
wagon  and  drove  straight  to  Liberty  to  search 
for  his  missing  son. 

Meanwhile  King  Anders  had  sold  his  hogs 
and  then,  with  the  money  in  his  pocket,  he 
went  up  to  the  office  of  Lawyer  Wagner.  As 
the  King  stalked  in,  Wagner  looked  up  from 
his  table  with  a  grin  on  his  face  that  made  the 
old  man  uneasy. 

' '  Hear  you  Ve  got  a  new  school-teacher  out 
your  way,"  he  said. 

"Yah,"  answered  the  King,  "and  he  's  a 
smart  one,  too,  yet. ' ' 

"Yes,  smart  enough  to  pull  the  wool  over 
your  eyes  all  right." 

"What  you  mean?" 

"Why,  you  know  who  he  is,  don't  you? 
He  's  the  son  of  Mike  McCormick  who  burned 
down  your  tannery. ' ' 

*  *  Huh !    Aw,  what  you  talk  about  ? ' ' 

"The  same.  The  red-headed  boy  who 
cleared  Higgins  and  Kramer,"  Wagner 
laughed,  unpleasantly. 

"Well,  if  he  is  I  get  him  out  pretty  quick  al- 


122  THE    UPSTART 

ready,"  roared  the  King,  getting  to  his  feet. 
"Come,  Ander,  we  go  home." 

The  King  and  his  son  climbed  up  on  the  high 
seat  of  the  wagon,  the  big  hog-rack  behind 
them,  and  rattled  out  of  town  at  a  sharp  trot. 
As  they  jolted  along  over  the  rough  dirt  road 
the  anger  in  the  old  man  grew  hot  and  violent. 
He  was  furious  at  the  school-trustees  who  had 
employed  Pat  McCormick.  They  had  made  a 
fool  of  him.  Wagner  and  Higgins  and 
Kramer— everybody,  who  knew  about  it,  was 
laughing  at  him. 

* '  By  Gott ! "  he  burst  out,  striking  the  horses 
a  heavy  blow,  "I  '11  drive  that  teacher  out 
of  the  Anders  neighborhood  with  a  black-snake 
whip!" 

His  great  son,  who  shared  the  general  fear 
which  his  father  inspired,  said  nothing.  Under 
the  smart  of  the  blow  the  horses  broke  into  a 
heavy  gallop  and  it  took  all  the  boy's  strength 
to  pull  them  down  again  to  a  trot.  By  that 
time  they  had  overhauled  a  green  farm-wagon, 
traveling  along  the  road  ahead  of  them.  Its 
driver  looked  back  at  the  sound  of  approach- 
ing wheels.  He  was  old  Piet  Krager. 


THE   UPSTART  123 

"Anders,"  he  said,  sullenly,  stopping  his 
horses.  "I  want  to  speak  mit  you." 

The  King  drew  up  his  team.  The  back  of 
Krager's  long  wagon  was  covered  with  a  can- 
vas sheet.  To  the  end  gate  was  tied  young 
Piet's  mare,  drawing  his  empty  buggy.  Old 
Krager's  face  was  red  with  rage  and  shame. 

"That  's  a  nice  girl  you  got,  Anders,"  he 
said  hotly.  ' '  She  's  too  good  for  my  son,  Piet, 
huh?" 

The  old  King  glowered  down  from  his  seat, 
saying  nothing.  He  was  in  no  mood  to  be 
bearded  on  the  highway  by  a  neighbor. 

"She  don't  go  by  the  party  with  him.  No! 
But  she  dance  all  night  with  them  town  dudes 
and  comes  home  at  three  in  the  morning  yet. ' ' 

"Krager,  you  lie  to  me,"  thundered  the 
King. 

"Your  woman  told  me  so  herself  already 
that  Antje  goes  by  the  party  with  the  school- 
teacher," answered  Krager. 

Young  Anders  on  the  seat  beside  his  father 
could  hear  the  old  man's  heavy  breathing  and 
feel  his  body  tighten  in  the  grasp  of  the  demon 
of  rage  that  seized  him.  Pat  McCormick  tak- 


124  THE    UPSTART 

ing  his  daughter  to  a  party!  Was  he  a  thing 
for  all  men  to  laugh  at! 

"You  come  right,  away  by  my  house,  Kra- 
ger, ' '  said  the  King,  * '  and  we  settle  this  pretty 
quick.  Come ! ' ' 

He  tore  the  reins  from  his  son's  hands  and 
lashed  his  horses  into  a  gallop.  Leaning  for- 
ward as  if  to  shorten  the  distance,  he  urged 
them  on.  Close  behind,  old  Krager  followed 
grimly,  eager  to  see  the  shame  and  confusion 
of  King  Anders. 

Pat  McCormick  dismissed  school  a  little 
earlier  than  usual.  Mrs.  Anders  opened  the 
kitchen  door  to  him  when  he  knocked. 

"I  'm  the  school-teacher,"  he  began. 

"You  went  by  the  party  with  Antje  last 
night!"  the  old  woman  interrupted. 

"Yes.  She  was  almost  in  town  when  I  met 
her.  We  went  with  Miss  Hahn  and  some  other 
young  people.  Antje  was  n't  at  school  to-day. 
I  was  afraid  she  might  be  ill  I " 

"No,  she  is  not  sick,  but  her  father  will  be 
mad  when  he  hears. ' ' 

"It  was  my  fault.  I  will  wait  and  see  Mr. 
Anders.  May  I  see  Antje  a  minute?" 


'THE   UPSTART  125 

' '  She  is  working  in  the  garden  already. ' ' 

Walking  down  the  lane  over  the  shoulder  of 
a  hill  Pat  found  Antje  kneeling  in  the  soft 
earth.  She  started  to  rise  from  the  onion-bed 
she  was  weeding  as  the  garden-gate  clicked 
behind  him. 

1 '  No,  let  me  help  you, ' '  he  said,  dropping  on 
one  knee  beside  her.  "I  was  afraid  you  were 
sick. ' ' 

"I  slept  late,  that  was  all,"  she  said,  "I  '11 
be  at  school  in  the  morning. ' ' 

"Antje,"  Pat  began  unsteadily.  "I  was 
very  rude  to  you  last  night. ' ' 

"Kude?"  repeated  the  girl,  a  world  of  sur- 
prise in  her  voice.  *  *  Why,  I  did  n  't  know  it. ' ' 
She  went  on  about  her  weeding. 

"Yes,  I  was,"  said  Pat,  "and— you  were 
mighty  unkind  to  me. ' ' 

The  girl  stopped  her  work  and  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  at  him.  Her  face  was  in  profile 
and  her  yellow  hair  was  lying  in  little  wanton 
curls  over  her  low  forehead.  The  cheek  turned 
toward  him  was  flushed  and  where  the  collar 
of  her  blue  calico  dress  was  turned  in  he  could 
see  a  little  vein  beating  against  the  whiteness 
of  her  skin. 


126  THE    UPSTART 

"What  's  the  matter !"  she  smiled.  "You 
're  pulling  up  more  onions  than  weeds." 

They  were  alone  in  the  big  garden,  screened 
with  tangled  thickets  of  gooseberry  and  cur- 
rant bushes.  Above  them  a  fleet  of  cottony 
white  clouds  was  at  anchor  in  the  blue  sky  and 
the  warm  sun  of  late  June  beat  down  fervently. 
Locusts  were  shrilling  in  the  trees  and  a  brown 
and  yellow  striped  chipmunk  darted  across 
the  nearest  fence-rail  and  perched  on  the 
post,  fluttering  its  tail  and  fairly  vibrating 
with  timid  curiosity. 

"  Antje,"  Pat  began,  with  a  new  note  in  his 
voice — but  just  then  the  serene  silence  of  Arca- 
dia and  its  onion  bed  was  broken  by  the  rattle 
of  wagon-wheels.  The  girl  stood  up. 

"It  's  my  father,"  she  said,  "and  old  Piet 
Krager  is  with  him." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Pat,  standing  beside 
her.  "I  '11  explain  to  him." 

King  Anders,  looking  straight  ahead,  drove 
on  up  the  lane.  He  might  have  passed  the  gar- 
den without  noticing,  had  not  his  son  pulled 
him  by  the  arm. 

"Father,"  said  the  boy,  "there  is  Antje  in 


THE    UPSTART  127 

the  garden  already.  And  the  teacher  is  with 
her." 

King  Anders  jerked  his  team  to  a  sudden 
halt  and  sat  silent  for  an  instant,  glaring  at 
them  over  the  garden  fence. 

It  was  all  true  then ! 

Slowly  and  without  speaking  he  climbed 
down  from  the  high  seat,  taking  his  black-snake 
whip  with  him.  Still  silent  he  fumbled  at  the 
leather  strap  which  fastened  the  garden  gate. 
Finally  he  threw  it  open  and  stepped  inside. 

Out  in  the  lane  old  Piet  Krager  had  stopped 
his  horses  and  sat  with  a  wicked  leer  on  his 
face.  On  the  seat  which  his  father  had  just 
left  young  Ander  sat  motionless.  Up  at  the 
house  old  Mrs.  Anders  had  heard  the  sound 
of  wheels  and  had  stepped  out  on  the  porch, 
looking  down  toward  the  road,  her  hand  shad- 
ing her  dim  eyes.  As  she  saw  her  husband 
climb  down  from  his  seat  she  ran  swiftly  to- 
ward him,  crying  shrilly,  "Ander!  Ander! 
Come  here  yet  once  a  minute ! ' ' 

"Is  your  name  Pat  McCormick?"  the  old 
King  demanded,  the  muscles  in  his  throat  work- 
ing spasmodically.  His  lower  lip  was  dropped 


128  THE    UPSTART 

and  his  teeth  showed  above  his  short  gray 
beard. 

' '  Yes,  sir. ' '  Pat  stepped  forward  to  face  him. 

'  *  By  Gott !  I  teach  you  a  lesson ! "  he  roared. 
The  heavy  whip  cut  through  the  air,  but  as  it 
fell,  Antje  sprang  before  her  father,  as  if  to 
stop  him,  and  caught  the  full  force  of  the  blow 
on  her  shoulders.  Only  the  lash  struck  Pat  in 
the  face  and  cut  a  red  stripe  down  his  cheek. 
Antje  fell  to  the  ground  with  a  scream  of  pain. 
Pat  leaped  forward  and  seized  the  whip  as  the 
King,  beyond  himself  with  rage,  raised  it  to 
strike  again.  Close  to  them  in  the  lane,  now, 
the  old  mother  was  coming,  running  at  the  top 
of  her  speed,  stumbling  and  shrieking  execra- 
tions on  her  husband.  On  his  wagon  Piet  Kra- 
ger  sat,  his  face  distorted  with  a  sneer  of  scorn 
and  satisfaction. 

As  Pat  grasped  the  whip  King  Anders  drew 
back  his  left  hand  to  strike  him.  Upraised,  it 
strangely  faltered;  then  dropped  limp  at  his 
side.  His  great  figure  stood  still  for  an  instant. 
His  lips  moved,  but  only  unintelligible  sounds 
came  from  them.  A  look  of  awful  surprise  and 
fear  shone  in  his  eyes.  He  tottered,  then  sud- 


Q 


THE    UPSTART  129 

denly  collapsed  upon  the  ground  in  a  senseless 
heap. 

As  he  fell,  the  disheveled  figure  of  young 
Piet  Krager  raised  itself  from  under  the  can- 
vas sheet  which  covered  the  back  of  his  father 's 
wagon. 

"Hurruh!"  he  yelled  in  a  drunken  voice. 
1  i  Everybody  have  a  good  time. ' '  Then  he  dis- 
appeared again.  In  the  confusion  which  fol- 
lowed the  fall  of  the  stricken  King,  that  inter- 
ruption passed  unnoticed. 

Mrs.  Anders,  Pat,  Ander  and  old  Krager 
carried  the  great  unconscious  figure  into  the 
house  and  stretched  it  on  a  bed.  While  his 
wife  loosened  the  woolen  shirt  around  his  neck, 
one  of  the  boys  started  after  a  doctor,  riding 
an  unsaddled  horse. 

Pat  left  the  house,  to  see  Antje  just  going 
in  at  the  back  door.  She  was  still  pale  and 
shaken  from  the  blow  she  had  received.  He 
ran  toward  her,  calling  her  name.  Without 
turning  to  look  at  him  she  hurried  in  and  shut 
the  door. 


XII 

PAT  was  at  supper  when  Luders,  the 
president  of  the  school-trustees,  came 
over  to  see  him.  He  called  Pat  out  into  the 
yard  and  the  two  sat  down  on  the  frame  of  an 
old  grind-stone  under  an  apple  tree.  The  man 
was  plainly  the  embarrassed  bearer  of  an  un- 
pleasant message.  He  began  with  a  cautious 
reference  to  what  had  happened  during  the 
afternoon. 

"I  suppose  you  won't  want  to  teach  the 
school  any  more?"  he  finally  blurted  out. 

" Why  not?"  asked  Pat. 

"Well,  you  know,  Anders  '11  be  mad  enough 
at  us  for  hiring  you  at  all.  We  never  had  an 
idea  that  you  were  the  fellow  whose  father— 

"Now,  look  here,  Luders,"  Pat  interrupted 
—"I  'm  not  to  blame  for  what  my  father  did 
and  I  'm  going  to  teach  this  school  until  my 
term  's  out." 

130 


THE   UPSTART  131 

"Two  of  the  Anders  boys  were  over  at  my 
house  to-night  and  they  said  there  'd  be  hell 
to  pay  if  you  showed  up  at  the  school  to-mor- 
row. ' ' 

"I  '11  be  there  at  nine  o'clock,"  said  Pat, 
getting  up  from  the  seat.  "I  'm  not  going  to 
run  away." 

"You  don't  know  that  crowd,  or  you 
would  n't  be  so  anxious  to  get  us  all  into 
trouble, ' '  said  Luders,  as  he  turned  away. 

Half  an  hour  later  Pat  saw  another  man 
coming  across  fields  to  the  house.  It  was  one 
of  the  Anders  hired  men— an  Irishman.  He 
carried  a  note  from  Antje.  Pat  tore  it  open. 

"Doctor  Jackson  says  father  has  broken  a 
blood  vessel  in  his  head,"  she  wrote,  "and  if 
he  is  to  get  well  there  must  be  nothing  to  make 
him  mad  when  he  comes  to  himself.  If  you 
keep  on  teaching  our  school  it  may  kill  him. 
Please  go  away." 

Pat  looked  up  from  the  note  and  hesitated  a 
moment. 

' '  She  told  me  they  was  a  answer, ' '  said  the 
messenger. 

' l  Tell  her  I  'm  not  going  to  teach  the  school 


132  THE   UPSTAET 

any  more.  I  'm  going  back  to  Liberty  to- 
night." 

"  And  a  good  thing  it  is,"  the  man  burst  out. 
"They  're  a  bad  lot  over  there"— wagging  his 
head  in  the  direction  of  the  Anders  farm— 
"all  but  the  girl.  She  's  nursing  the  two  av 
thim  this  minute,  with  thim  big  louts  av  boys 
standing  around  like  dummies." 

"The  two  of  them?"  said  Pat  in  surprise. 

"Sure  the  old  woman  keeled  over  tin  min- 
utes afther  they  got  the  old  man  in  the  house 
and  the  doctor  found  both  av  thim  in  bed  whin 
he  got  there." 

"Is  n't  there  any  one  else  to  help?" 

* l  We  're  all  doing  what  we  can  and  they  Ve 
sint  for  wan  of  the  Luders  girls  to  do  the  cook- 
ing. But  that  Miss  Antje  now  's  a  ragaler 
major-gineral  for  you." 

"Well,"  Pat  responded  slowly,  "you  tell 
her  I  'm  going  back  to  Liberty  to-night.  That  's 
the  most  I  can  do  to  help. ' ' 

He  sent  word  to  the  school-directors  that  he 
had  changed  his  mind,  packed  his  trunk  to  be 
brought  in  on  Saturday  by  the  farmer  and  at 
ten  o'clock  started  to  walk  the  long  stretch  of 


THE    UPSTART  133 

six  miles  into  town.  Midway  he  mounted  the 
crest  of  a  high  hill  and  there  he  stood  a  minute 
and  looked  back.  Down  in  the  valley  lay  the 
dim  buildings  of  the  Anders  farm.  Between 
him  and  the  girl  who  lived  there  lay  a  gulf 
which,  it  seemed,  might  never  be  crossed.  Im- 
pulsively he  tossed  a  good-bye  kiss  to  her 
through  the  night.  Then  he  faced  to  the  west 
again,  where  the  lights  of  the  village  twinkled 
among  the  trees. 

NEXT  morning  Pat  went  down  to  see  General 
Bristow,  the  postmaster,  his  old  employer.  He 
had  decided  not  to  look  for  another  school. 
One  of  his  old  ambitions  was  near  to  realiza- 
tion now;  what  it  was,  only  Judge  Hahn  and 
Mr.  Burton  knew,  but  by  the  end  of  the  year 
he  hoped  to  realize  it. 

There  happened  to  be  a  place  vacant  in  the 
post-office  and  he  was  given  it.  Often  he  called 
at  Dr.  Jackson 's  office  to  inquire  as  to  the  con- 
dition of  King  Anders.  A  rapid  recovery  was 
reported.  Finally,  one  day  after  three 
months  had  gone  by,  Dr.  Jackson  told  him  that 
the  old  man  was  himself  again. 


134  THE    UPSTART 

"He  's  got  the  constitution  of  an  ox,"  the 
Doctor  said.  "Apparently  he  's  as  well  and 
strong  now  as  he  ever  was.  It  's  mostly  owing 
to  that  girl  of  his,  too,  I  tell  you  that.  She  's 
not  only  nursed  him  but  practically  managed 
the  farm  ever  since  he  took  sick.'* 

"She  must  be  quite  worn  out,"  Pat  ven- 
tured. 

"Yes,  she  is  looking  pretty  peaked.  I  told 
Anders  he  ought  to  send  her  away  for  a  rest. ' ' 

Less  than  a  week  later,  Pat  got  an  unex- 
pected letter.  His  hand  trembled  a  little  as 
he  tore  open  the  envelope. 

"I  've  Been  wanting  to  tell  you  that  I  don 't  blame 
you  for  what  happened  that  afternoon,"  it  began 
abruptly,  "and  I  'm  dreadfully  grateful  to  you 
for  giving  up  the  school.  I  don't  know  what  awful 
thing  would  have  happened  if  you  had  n't.  I  'm 
going  to  Biekford  Seminary  after  all.  I  '11  be  on 
the  10:40  train  next  Monday  morning. 
"Your  friend, 

"ANTJE  ANDERS. 

"P.  S.  Don't  come  to  the  train  if  it  's  incon- 
venient. ' ' 

« 

Inconvenient !   When  Monday  came  Pat  was 


THE    UPSTART  135 

at  the  station  half  an  hour  before  the  train 
was  due.  Presently  Tom  Hahn  drove  up  in  a 
surrey,  with  satchels  and  bundles  beside  him 
and  his  sister,  Miss  Jack,  in  the  seat  behind. 

"Why,  Pat  McCormick,"  she  cried  at  sight 
of  him.  t '  Climb  up  here  with  me.  Where  have 
you  been  all  summer?  We  have  n't  laid  eyes 
on  you  since  the  Schumacher  party." 

"I  Ve  been  very  busy,"  he  said.  The  ar- 
rival of  other  phaetons  and  buggies  filled  with 
young  people,  all  come  to  see  Miss  Jack  safely 
off,  saved  further  explanations.  They  formed 
a  circle  about  the  seat  where  she  held  her 
court  and  filled  the  station  platform  with  gay 
talk  and  laughter.  Presently  the  train  pulled 
in.  Pat  would  have  climbed  down  but  the  girl 
stopped  him. 

"Here,  Pat,"  said  Miss  Jack,  "you  shall 
carry  my  dearest  treasure."  She  handed  him 
a  long  paste-board  box.  *  *  Be  careful  of  that, ' ' 
she  warned  him,  smilingly.  "It  's  got  my  very 
bestest  party  dress  in  it." 

So  in  the  midst  of  the  laughing  crowd  of 
young  people,  Pat  entered  the  car,  his  eager 
eyes  going  ahead  in  search  of  Antje.  He  saw 


136  THE    UPSTART 

her  near  the  rear,  a  little  figure  in  a  country- 
made  brown  dress,  a  huge  canvas  satchel  on 
the  seat  beside  her.  Miss  Jack  caught  sight 
of  her  at  the  same  moment  and  ran  to  greet 
her. 

"Why,  Antje  Anders,"  she  cried.  "Where 
are  you  going?" 

"I  'm  going  down  to  Bickford  Seminary," 
Antje  answered. 

"How  lovely!  Here,  Tom,  turn  over  this 
seat  and  we  '11  ride  together. ' ' 

So  Pat  saw  the  girl  he  had  come  to  seef  taken 
possession  of  without  a  chance  to  say  a  word 
to  her  alone. 

"Pat,  put  that  box  up  here  in  the  rack," 
Miss  Jack  ordered,  treating  him  as  one  of  her 
attendant  knights. 

"I  hope  I  '11  see  you  again  next  week,  Miss 
Anders,"  Pat  heard  Tom  Hahn  saying.  "I  '11 
be  stopping  at  the  seminary  on  my  way  to  Ann 
Arbor. ' ' 

Then  the  conductor  called  "All  aboard!" 
The  girls  in  the  party  rushed  to  kiss  Miss  Jack 
good-bye  and  a  moment  later  Pat  found  him- 
self standing  on  the  platform  outside,  watch- 


THE   UPSTART  137 

ing  the  train  disappear  down  the  track.  Of 
the  tender  meeting  with  Antje  he  had  fondly 
pictured,  there  was  nothing  left  to  him  but  a 
little  pressure  of  the  hand  and  a  glance  from 
her  blue  eyes — could  he  be  sure  even  of  that! 

Poor  little  girl,  so  tired  and  worn,  with  most 
of  the  color  gone  from  her  cheeks.  She  looked 
like  a  little  brown  wren  in  the  midst  of  the 
girls  of  Liberty,  with  their  flowers  and  rib- 
bons and  flounces. 

Pat  hurried  back  to  the  office  to  write  her  a 
letter. 

"Dear  Antje,"  he  wrote.  "I  wanted  very 
much  to  see  you  alone  and  have  a  talk  with 
you,  but  you  saw  how  it  was.  I  wish  the 
whole  Hahn  family  were  in  Guinea.  You  know 
how  glad  I  was  to  get  your  letter.  As  soon  as 
you  are  settled,  I  want  to  come  down  to  the 
seminary  to  see  you.  I  hope  you  '11  have  a 
fine  time  at  Bickford.  May  I  write  to  you 
while  you  are  away?  I  know  what  a  hard 
summer  you  Ve  had  and  I  feel  that  I  'm  re- 
sponsible for  it." 

It  was  more  than  two  weeks  before  the  an- 
swer came 


138  THE    UPSTAKT 

"I  'm  feeling  much  better  already,"  she 
wrote.  "Last  week  we  had  a  pleasant  visit 
from  Tom  Hahn.  He  stopped  over  to  see  his 
sister  and  took  Jack  and  me  out  for  a  long 
ride.  We  're  only  allowed  to  see  our  brothers 
and  cousins,  you  see,  and  that  's  why  you  can 't 
come  down  here  to  see  me.  The  idea  of  your 
wishing  the  whole  Hahn  family  in  Guinea  and 
of  your  being  so  unhappy  because  you  did  n't 
see  me  alone  at  the  station !  When  I  looked  out 
of  the  car  window  as  the  train  pulled  in,  I 
thought  you  looked  very  happy  sitting  up  on 
the  buggy  seat  with  Jack.  I  think  she  thinks 
a  good  deal  of  you.  Now,  don't  go  and  get 
conceited  about  it!  Tom  Hahn  is  going  to 
stop  here  on  his  way  home  for  the  Christmas 
vacation  and  take  us  girls  home  with  him.  I  'm 
sorry  you  can't  come  down  to  see  me,  but  per- 
haps you  '11  come  to  the  station  and  say  'How 
do  you  do,'  when  I  go  through  Liberty  at 
Christmas  time.  Yes,  you  may  write  to  me 
once  in  a  while,  when  you  have  nothing  better 
to  do." 

Here  was  gall  and  wormwood,  with  only  a 
drop  of  honey  at  the  end  to  make  the  taste  of 


THE    UPSTART  139 

it  bitter-sweet.  Tom  Hahn  ran  large  through 
it  all,  but — Pat  might  write  to  her  once  in  a 
while!  She  had  written  him  from  the  farm, 
to  say  that  she  did  not  blame  him  and  telling 
him  that  he  might  come  to  the  station  to  see 
her.  Perhaps,  after  all  ...  but  whenever 
his  hopes  grew  brighter,  the  grim  shadow  of 
old  King  Anders  fell  across  them.  For  the 
sake  of  the  girl  herself  he  must  crush  them 
out. 

And  he  had  so  little  to  offer  her. 


xin 

THE  skill  and  tenderness  shown  by  his 
daughter  in  nursing  him  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  King  Anders.  No  less  was  he  im- 
pressed by  the  ability  she  displayed  in  taking 
over  the  management  of  the  farm,  to  re- 
lieve him  of  the  worry  caused  by  the  entire 
lack  of  initiative  on  the  part  of  his  sons.  He 
began  to  feel  a  certain  fierce  pride  in  her. 

When  Dr.  Jackson  spoke  of  her  growing  pal- 
lor and  weakness  and  urged  that  she  be  sent 
away  for  a  rest,  old  Mrs.  Anders  made  bold 
again  to  suggest  that  Antje's  wish  to  go  away 
to  school  be  gratified.  To  her  surprise,  the 
King  consented  without  objection. 

Antje's  first  three  months  at  the  quaint  old 
seminary  opened  up  a  new  world  to  her.  The 
girls  from  Chicago  and  the  larger  towns  of 
the  state  talked  of  books  and  dresses  and  other 
things  that  put  new  interests  into  her  life.  With 

140 


THE   UPSTART  141 

the  quick  adaptability  which  was  hers,  she  soon 
began  to  make  changes  in  her  attitude  of  mind 
and  in  her  wardrobe  to  meet  the  new  condi- 
tions. King  Anders  was  used  to  spending 
money  on  things  which  interested  him— land 
and  cattle  and  horses— and  now  that  his  only 
daughter  was  at  school,  he  sent  her  plenty  from 
his  great  store.  She  spent  most  of  it  in  buying 
dresses  and  hats  and  the  other  dainty  things 
which  help  to  make  a  pretty  girl  in  the  fresh- 
ness of  her  teens  a  vision  of  delight. 

To  Pat  she  wrote  an  occasional  letter.  To 
Tom  Hahn  she  wrote  more  frequently.  His 
letters  were  a  great  delight  to  her.  They  told 
of  football  games  and  of  college  larks  and 
frolics  and  they  were  laced  with  bits  of  verse 
and  scraps  of  Latin  in  a  way  that  seemed  to 
Antje  most  fascinating. 

When  the  Christmas  holidays  approached, 
her  room-mate,  Jane  Bartlett,  asked  her  to 
spend  a  part  of  the  time  with  her  in  Chicago. 
She  longed  to  go,  but  would  her  father  allow 
it?  She  wrote  him  timidly  about  it.  Presently 
came  a  letter  from  her  mother,  written  pain- 
fully in  low  Dutch.  It  inclosed  a  draft  for 


142  THE    UPSTART 

three  hundred  dollars.  "Get  yourself  some 
pretty  dresses,"  it  said,  "and  have  a  good 
time.  Your  father  says  you  may  have  more 
money  if  you  want  it.  We  want  to  see  you 
very  much." 

She  wrote  to  Tom  Hahn  at  Ann  Arbor  that 
she  was  going  to  spend  her  vacation  in  Chicago 
and  he  promptly  wrote  back  that  that  fell  in 
delightfully  with  his  own  plans.  He  was 
spending  a  week  in  the  city,  too,  and  he  would 
call  on  her. 

The  drive  from  the  station  in  Chicago  to  the 
Bartlett  home  on  the  North  Side  was  a  pano- 
rama of  wonders  to  Antje.  She  shrank  back 
in  the  cab  and  watched  the  big  buildings  and 
the  miles  of  houses  slip  by  in  endless  proces- 
sion. Before  Jane  Bartlett,  leaning  out  of  the 
cab,  called  "Here  we  are,"  her  mind  was  a 
kaleidoscope  of  confused  impressions. 

Next  morning  Antje  was  awakened  by  the 
clatter  of  the  milkman's  horses  on  the  pave- 
ment. The  whole  day  was  spent  downtown 
and  it  was  a  bright-eyed  and  bewildered  little 
girl  who  sat  down  to  dinner  at  the  Bartletts'. 
At  eight  o'clock  Tom  Hahn  and  his  friend, 


THE   UPSTART  143 

John  Tyler,  called.  Mrs.  Bartlett  and  her 
daughter  were  already  in  the  drawing-room 
and  Antje  came  down  presently. 

When  Tom  rose  to  greet  her  he  could  hardly 
believe  his  eyes.  She  wore  a  white,  lacey  dress, 
trimmed  with  yellow,  and  Mrs.  Bartlett 's  own 
maid  had  just  finished  arranging  her  great 
mass  of  red-gold  hair.  As  she  gave  him  her 
hand,  Tom  Hahn  lost  the  assurance  of  a  senior 
collegian.  For  three  months  he  had  been  writ- 
ing letters  to  an  angel  and  had  been  only  half 
aware  of  it !  The  girl  seemed  perfectly  at 
home,  but  Sir  Thomas  had  hard  work  to  cover 
his  confusion. 

"My  Lord!  But  she  's  a  stunner!"  cried 
the  enthusiastic  Tyler  as  the  young  men  left 
the  house.  "Why  did  n't  you  give  a  fellow  a 
warning?" 

"0,  I  thought  I  'd  let  it  burst  upon  you  all 
at  once,"  answered  Tom  with  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  lightness  he  could  assume. 

The  next  afternoon  Tom  and  young  Tyler 
took  the  girls  to  ride  in  the  parks.  In  the  even- 
ing Mrs.  Bartlett  gave  a  little  dance  for  the 
young  people  at  her  house.  There  were  other 


144  THE    UPSTART 

parties,  a  glee  club  concert,  followed  by  a  be- 
wildering round  of  drives  and  dinners,  and 
through  it  all,  Tom  Hahn  was  never  far  from 
Antje's  side.  It  seemed  to  the  girl  that  she 
had  known  him  for  years. 

On  the  last  night  of  her  stay  in  Chicago  it 
had  been  arranged  that  the  four  young  people, 
with  Mrs.  Bartlett  as  their  chaperon,  should 
attend  a  performance  of  Romeo  and  Juliet. 
Antje  had  never  attended  a  theatrical  perform- 
ance; and  at  the  prospect,  naturally,  she  was 
wrought  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement. 

The  young  men  took  a  stage  box  at  McVick- 
er's.  The  audience  was  a  brilliant  one  and 
when  her  party  came  into  the  crowded  house, 
Antje  felt  that  she  was  looking  upon  a  scene 
from  the  land  of  fairies.  Her  wide  blue  eyes 
swept  round  the  gorgeous  dress  circle  and  up 
the  glittering  tiers  of  boxes  with  startled  de- 
light. Despite  the  protests  of  Mrs.  Bartlett 
she  insisted  on  sitting  at  the  rear  of  the  box, 
where  in  the  shadow  of  the  heavy  curtain  she 
could  see  without  being  seen.  Tom  Hahn  took 
the  seat  beside  her,  with  the  others  in  front  of 
them. 


THE    UPSTART  145 

While  the  orchestra  was  playing  the  over- 
ture, late  comers  were  filing  into  their  seats 
and  the  house  was  filled  with  gay  chatter  and 
laughter.  But  Antje,  her  eyes  half -closed, 
leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  let  herself  drift 
on  the  great  waves  of  melody.  It  was  like  a 
wonderful  dream  to  her.  Tom  Hahn,  sitting 
close  beside,  watched  the  color  come  into  her 
cheeks  and  caught  the  soft  sound  of  a  little 
sigh  of  delight.  Neither  of  them  spoke  and 
Mrs.  Bartlett,  glancing  back,  smiled  happily  to 
herself,  and  then  fixed  her  eyes  upon  the  stage. 

The  lights  in  the  great  theater  went  sud- 
denly out,  the  music  stopped,  the  stage  burst 
into  a  glare  of  light  and  out  tripped  the  gay 
gallants  in  silken  hose  and  doublet,  the  gray 
and  reverend  seniors,  and  the  tender  girls  of 
mediaeval  Verona,  who  live  again  in  the  mas- 
ter 's  love  tragedy. 

The  little  Dutch  girl  leaned  forward,  all  her 
soul  in  her  eyes.  Tom  Hahn  could  see  her 
breathing  quicken  as  she  watched  the  action  of 
the  play.  When  the  curtain  fell  for  the  first 
time,  Mrs.  Bartlett  and  Jane  turned  to  speak 


10 


146  THE    UPSTAKT 

of  the  wonderful  acting.  But  Antje  answered 
hardly  a  word.  It  was  all  too  real  to  her. 

The  farm  with  its  dirt,  its  hard,  grinding 
work,  seemed  very  far  away.  Had  they  ever 
really  existed  ?  Surely  this  was  the  real  world, 
this  beautiful  land,  from  which  all  sordid  com- 
monplaces were  banished ;  where  no  one  toiled 
or  suffered— save  for  love  of  some  fair  maiden. 

What  she  saw  took  full  possession  of  her. 
All  the  young,  fresh,  virgin  emotions  of  her 
nature  were  deeply  stirred.  She,  too,  was  a 
princess  of  that  fair  country,  where  love  is  at 
once  the  only  means  and  the  sole  end  of  living. 
She  felt  herself  suddenly  capable  of  a  grand, 
an  overmastering  passion. 

The  orchestra  played  again.  ' '  Love !  Love ! ' ' 
sang  the  fiddles ;  "Love, ' '  whispered  the  flutes ; 
"Love  is  the  only  thing  in  the  world." 

The  next  act  began  and  the  great  house, 
hushed  and  breathless,  leaned  forward  again 
in  attitudes  of  strained  attention.  Tom  Hahn, 
glancing  down,  saw  one  of  Antje 's  slim  brown 
hands  resting  on  the  arm  of  her  chair.  He 
reached  over,  reverently,  and  took  it  in  his 
own.  To  her  it  seemed  the  perfectly  natural 


THE   UPSTART  147 

thing  for  him  to  do.  She  turned  her  beautiful 
face  toward  him  and  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
misty. 

"Antje, "  he  whispered,  himself  under  the 
spell,  ' '  I  love  you,  dear. ' ' 

His  voice  was  as  passionate  and  compelling 
as  that  of  the  other  lover  on  the  stage  and  the 
girl  thrilled  to  the  mystery  and  wonder  of  it 
all.  It  was  true,  then !  The  world  was  merely 
a  place  for  men  and  women  to  love  in.  Nothing 
else  mattered.  She  was  another  Juliet  and  he 
was  her  Romeo,  telling  her  his  love.  She  felt 
a  craving  she  could  not  resist  to  surrender  her- 
self to  him  entirely. 

So  she  smiled  up  at  him,  with  a  tender  light 
in  her  eyes,  and  he  bent  quickly  and  kissed  her 
full  on  the  lips. 

When  Antje  Anders  fell  to  sleep  at  last  that 
night  she  was  still  in  Shakespeare's  Verona, 
with  her  eyes  full  of  glorious  color,  with  the 
sound  of  sweet  music  and  the  voice  of  her  lover 
in  her  ears.  To  her  half-sleeping  fancy  the 
walls  of  her  little  white  sleeping-room  at  the 
Bartletts'  were  hung  with  gay  banners  and 
silken  tapestries,  and  the  shrill  rattling  of  the 


148  THE    UPSTART 

cable  trains  a  block  away  might  have  been  the 
sibilant  voices  of  her  hand-maidens  whispering 
together  in  the  next  room  of  the  castle. 

SHE  woke  the  next  morning  in  Chicago.  The 
rattle  and  squeak  of  the  cable  trains  was  very 
real  now.  The  walls  of  her  room  were  covered 
with  white  paper,  stamped  with  a  horrid,  geo- 
metric pattern  in  blue  and  yellow.  The  rising- 
bell  was  ringing. 

How  much  of  what  had  happened  last  night 
was  real  and  how  much  a  part  of  the  play? 
A  wave  of  rosy  color  rushed  into  her  cheeks 
as  she  remembered  the  pressure  of  Tom 
Hahn's  lips  upon  her  own.  She  conjured  up 
his  face  as  she  had  seen  it  the  evening  before 
—full  of  tenderness  and  love.  Last  night  she 
had  been  a  child;— now  she  was  almost  a 
woman.  The  delicious  languor  of  sleep  came 
over  her  again  and,  as  she  drifted  back  into 
unconsciousness,  the  flying  shutter  of  her  mind 
opened  and  closed  upon  a  succession  of  other 
faces.  There  was  the  heavy  face  of  her  father, 
black  and  frowning;  there  was  her  mother's 
face,  sallow  and  wrinkled,  smiling  at  her  with 


THE   UPSTART  149 

a  questioning  love;  last  came  a  freckled  face, 
crowned  by  a  hedge  of  red  hair.  She  was  smil- 
ing as  she  slept. 

Waking  again  in  a  few  minutes,  she  found 
herself  most  unromantically  hungry.  She 
sprang  up  and  looked  at  herself  in  the  glass. 
This  morning  she  was  going  back  to  the  farm 
and  Tom  Hahn  was  going  with  her.  How 
should  she  meet  him?  What  should  she  say  to 
him? 

Tom  Hahn  came  to  take  her  to  the  station  in 
a  carriage,  but  she  insisted  that  Jane  Bartlett 
should  go  with  them.  She  dreaded  to  be  alone 
with  her  lover  and  yet  she  assured  herself  that 
she  did  love.  him. 

Tom  helped  Jane  down  from  the  car  just  as 
the  train  left  the  station.  As"  he  came  backj 
Antje  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled. 

' '  I  'm  tired,  Tom, ' '  she  said,  ' '  and  I  have  a 
bad  headache.  Would  you  mind  if  I  took  a 
nap?" 

But  he  was  not  to  be  put  off  longer. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  he  said,  sitting  down  in  the 
chair  beside  her, '  *  but  before  you  go  to  sleep  I 
want  you  to  say  that  you  love  me." 


150  THE    UPSTART 

She  sat  up  straight  in  her  chair,  her  face 
very  serious.  "We  were  foolish  last  night, 
Tom,"  she  said.  "I  'm  only  a  girl  and  you 
are  n't  through  law  school  yet.  We  must 
wait." 

5 '  Well, ' '  he  answered,  ' '  we  can  wait,  but  tell 
me  that  you  love  me.  Then  there  '11  be  some- 
thing worth  waiting  for." 

If  he  had  not  been  so  young  the  pink  in  her 
cheeks,  the  tender  look  in  her  eyes,  would  have 
been  his  sufficient  answer. 

"Please  tell  me,"  he  insisted. 

"I  'd  like  to,  Tom,— but  I  can't— now,"  she 
said  timidly.  "You  must  give  me  time  to  be 
sure. ' ' 


XIV 

"VWTHILE  Antje  Anders  was  visiting  in  Chi- 
*  "  cago,  Pat  McCormick  was  admitted  to 
the  bar.  For  two  years  he  had  been  reading 
law  under  the  direction  of  Judge  Hahn,  devot- 
,ing  his  evenings  and  Saturdays  to  the  work. 
That  was  the  secret  he  had  so  carefully  guarded 
from  his  mother  and  Aunt  Bridget.  The 
ceremony  was  a  simple  one.  Pat,  in  com- 
pany with  Judge  Hahn  and  General  Bris- 
tow,  went  over  to  the  court-house  and, 
appearing  before  the  Circuit  Judge— who 
interrupted  a  case  for  the  purpose— the  post- 
master, who  was  also  a  lawyer,  moved  his  ad- 
mission as  a  member  of  the  bar.  Judge  Hahn 
added  a  few  words  and  with  no  further  formal- 
ity the  order  was  issued.  Pat  had  already 
rented  a  little  room  in  the  same  building  where 
Judge  Hahn's  office  was  located.  Now  he 
tacked  on  the  door  a  small  sign  reading : '  *  Pat- 

151 


152  THE    UPSTART 

rick  McCormick,  Attorney  &  Counselor-at- 
Law"  and  took  possession  at  once. 

That  evening  in  the  Clarion  his  eye  fell  on 
a  note  in  the  personal  column: 

"Patrick  McCormick,  Esq.,  who  has  been 
reading  law  for  some  time  with  Judge  Hahn, 
was  admitted  to  the  bar  this  morning,  on  mo- 
tion of  General  Bristow.  Mr.  McCormick  was 
born  in  Liberty  and  bids  fair  to  become  a  credit 
to  our  thriving  little  city." 

He  felt  a  thrill  of  pride  as  he  read  it.  With 
the  paper  in  his  pocket  he  started  home  to  take 
the  great  news  to  his  mother  and  Aunt  Bridget. 
It  threw  both  the  old  women  into  great  excite- 
ment. 

"Pat,  darlin',  I  'm  that  proud  av  you,"  said 
old  Mrs.  McCormick,  kissing  him.  But  Aunt 
Bridget  was  not  satisfied  until  she  read  the 
wonderful  announcement  in  the  Clarion 
with  her  own  eyes.  She  got  out  her  spectacles, 
polished  them  on  her  apron  and  painfully 
spelled  out  the  item,  word  for  word,  her 
gnarled  forefinger  following  the  lines.  When 
she  had  finished  she  threw  the  paper  on  the 
floor  and  bounced  about  the  room,  her  hands 


THE    UPSTART  153 

on  her  hips  and  her  old  feet  keeping  the  meas- 
ure of  a  wild  Irish  jig. 

"Hurroo!"  she  shouted,  while  Pat  and  his 
mother  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  their 
cheeks,  "Hurroo  for  Granny  Clancy  and  the 
little  peepul !  '  Patrick  McCormick,  Es-s-quire ! 
Attor-r-ney  an'  Counsilor-r-at-Law. '  Now, 
what  would  they  think  av  that  in  the  County 
Koscommon  1 ' ' 

Next  morning  Pat  took  the  two  old  women 
down  to  inspect  the  wonderful  sign  and  the 
interior  of  the  office.  In  the  center  of  the  room 
stood  a  little  wooden  table,  with  a  plain  chair 
before  it  and  a  couple  of  similar  chairs  on  the 
other  side.  The  only  other  furniture  was  a 
tall  pine  book-case  in  which  a  half  dozen  law 
books  and  some  patent  office  reports  made  a 
brave  showing.  Mrs.  McCormick  and  her  sis- 
ter went  into  ecstasies  at  the  sight. 

Then  Aunt  Bridget,  who  might  have  been 
a  great  actress  if  she  had  not  been  a  washer- 
woman, insisted  that  Pat  sit  down  before  the 
table  in  a  professional  attitude,  while  she 
planted  herself  on  the  other  side. 

' ' Counsilor-r  McCormick,"  she  began  with 


154  THE    UPSTART 

intense  gravity,  "I  'm  afther  asking  your  ad- 
vice on  a  question  av  such  great  importance 
to  me  that  I  would  n't  be  taking  it  to  anny 
other  lawyer  in  the  wor-rld— such  is  the  confi- 
dence I  have  in  ye.  But  fir-rst  I  must  know 
what  you  '11  charge  me  for  it— you  lawyers 
ar-r-e  so  tricky." 

"I  must  know  what  the  question  is,  first, 
Madam,"  answered  Pat,  falling  in  with  the 
spirit  of  the  game.  "In  any  case  my  charge 
for  advice  would  not  be  more  than  fifty  dol- 
lars." 

* '  Fifty  dollars ! ' '  cried  Aunt  Bridget.  « '  Do 
you  hear  that  gossoon  talking  about  fifty  dol- 
lars !  Sure  he  knows  the  law  all  right !  He  '11 
be  making  a  fine  lawyer  entirely!" 

"Not  so  loud,  Aunt  Bridget,"  laughed  Pat. 
"You  '11  scare  the  natives." 

1 t  Sure  it 's  yoursilf  '11  be  scaring  the  natives, 
my  bye,  and  that  soon.  And  the  first  money 
you  take  in  you  must  spind  in  buying  the  long 
black  coat,  do  you  mind?'* 

That  same  afternoon  a  man  came  heavily 
down  the  hall  and  thrust  a  curious  face  in  at 
the  open  door.  It  was  Luders,  president  of  the 


THE   UPSTART  155 

Silver  Creek  School  trustees.  He  started  with 
surprise  at  the  sight  of  Pat  McCormick. 

' l  Well, ' '  he  said,  '  *  what  you  doing  here  1 J ' 

"I  'm  practising  law,"  Pat  answered. 
' l  Won 't  you  come  in  I ' ' 

The  man  sat  down  in  one  of  the  wooden 
chairs,  crossed  his  feet  and  began  to  press  the 
heel  of  one  boot  into  the  toe  of  the  other.  His 
clothes  were  worn  and  dust-covered  and  his 
thin  beard  was  of  the  same  shade. 

"How  are  things  out  your  way?"  Pat  asked. 

"They  ain't  very  good." 

"What  's  the  matter?" 

"Well,  ever  since  that  row,  old  Anders  has 
been  after  me  for  hiring  you.  And  now  he  's 
got  me." 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Pat,  feeling  a  per- 
sonal responsibility  for  the  plight  in  which 
Luders  found  himself. 

"Three  years  ago  I  had  to  borrow  a  thou- 
sand dollars,"  the  farmer  said  in  a  discouraged 
voice.  "I  got  it  at  the  Liberty  National  and 
they  Ve  renewed  it  for  me  twice.  It  comes  due 
again  to-morrow  and  I  come  in  to-day  to  fix  it 
up. 


156  THE    UPSTART 

"  'Sorry,'  the  cashier  says,  'but  we  Ve  sold 
the  mortgage  to  Ander  Anders.  You  '11  have 
to  see  him. '  And  I  know  Anders  '11  never  re- 
new it." 

'  *  Can 't  you  get  the  money  somewhere  else  ? ' ' 
Pat  asked. 

"I  've  been  around  to  all  the  banks  and 
they  won't  any  of  them  make  Anders  mad.  I 
guess  I  '11  lose  the  land. ' ' 

"How  much  is  it?" 

"Forty  acres  and  it  's  worth  every  cent  of 
fifty  dollars." 

"Come  back  at  eleven  o'clock  to-morrow," 
said  Pat,  * '  and  I  '11  see  what  I  can  do. ' ' 

Up  at  the  head  of  Main  street^  next  door  to 
the  cottage  which  Pat  had  rented,  old  Williams, 
the  village  note-shaver,  lived  in  a  big  brick 
house.  At  dinner-time  Pat  went  in  to  see  him. 

"A  client  of  mine  wants  to  borrow  a  thou- 
sand dollars  on  forty  acres  of  land  in  Monroe 
township,"  said  Pat.  "Would  you  like  the 
loan!" 

"Well,  now,  I  don't  know,"  drawled  the  old 
man  with  professional  cynicism,  "I  guess  I 
don 't  want  to  let  any  more  money  out  in  these 
hard  times. ' ' 


THE   UPSTART  157 

"I  'm  sorry,"  said  Pat.  "The  land  's  worth 
fifty  dollars  an  acre  and  if  I  don't  get  the 
money  by  noon  to-morrow,  King  Anders  '11 
get  it  for  half  what  it  's  worth. ' ' 

' '  Aw-w-w ! ' '  gurgled  old  Williams  in  his  long 
white  beard.  "It  's  one  of  Anders'  deals,  is 
it?  I  call  Anders  a  dangerous  man,  gobbling 
up  all  the  land  in  the  county  and  interfering 
with  legitimate  business  the  way  he  does.  I '  11 
go  downtown  and  look  the  land  up  this  after- 
noon. If  you  don't  hear  from  me,  I  reckon 
I  '11  take  it,  just  to  help  you  out. ' ' 

At  eleven  o  'clock  next  morning,  Luders  came 
into  Pat's  office. 

"You  did  n't  find  nobody  to  take  that  loan, 
I  suppose?"  he  asked  in  a  resigned  tone. 

"I  'm  expecting  old  Mr.  Williams  here  in  a 
few  minutes  with  the  money,"  Pat  answered, 
and  Luders  sprang  to  his  feet. 

1 ' If  you  help  me  out  of  this, ' '  he  cried,  "I  '11 
never  forget  you. ' ' 

Williams  came  in  presently  and,  after  whis- 
pering to  Pat,  was  introduced  to  the  farmer. 

"Money  's  awful  tight,"  he  began,  "but  I 
guess  I  can  let  you  have  this  thousand.  Ten 
per  cent.  '11  be  right,  I  guess. ' ' 


158  THE    UPSTART 

"No,"  Pat  spoke  up,  "Luders  '11  pay  eight 
—that  's  the  market  rate." 

' '  Wall,  seeing  's  it  's  going  to  save  you  from 
being  et  up  by  old  Anders,  I  '11  let  you  have  it 
at  that.  I  call  him  a  dangerous  man  to  the  com- 
munity, I  do." 

"I  '11  go  and  bring  Anders  up  here  to  re- 
lease the  old  mortgage,"  said  Luders. 

Presently  he  returned,  the  King  climbing 
the  stairs  heavily  in  his  wake.  Anders  was  in 
a  sour  humor  and  his  face  plainly  showed  the 
disappointment  he  felt.  Old  Williams  jumped 
up  from  his  chair  and  greeted  him  with  ironi- 
cal cordiality. 

"Well,  Anders,"  he  said,  "How  are  you 
anyhow?  I  Ve  just  been  making  a  little  loan 
to  our  friend  here.  Sorry  to  stop  you  from 
getting  another  good  forty  for  half  what  it  's 
worth,  heh?" 

"I  'd  lose  all  my  land  yet  before  I  borrow 
money  from  you,"  snorted  the  King. 

"You  own  too  much,  Anders.  It  's  bad  for 
legitimate  business,  having  all  the  land  in  a  few 
hands.  I  'm  glad  to  keep  this  poor  fellow  out 
of  your  clutches." 

' '  Bah !  You  suck  the  blood  out  of  us  farmers 


THE   UPSTART  159 

for  thirty  years  already,"  returned  the  King 
hotly. 

"I  have,  hen?  I  been  helping  poor  people 
over  their  hard  places,  that  's  what  I  been  do- 
ing. I  been  satisfied  with  my  miserable  little 
eight  and  ten  per  cent.,  I  have,  while  you  Ve 
been  eating  'em  up,  body,  soul  and  britches. 
You  're  a  dangerous  man,  you  are,  Anders. 
I  've  always  said  so." 

Hoping  to  save  a  further  scene,  Pat  inter- 
rupted. 

"If  you  '11  sign  this  release,  Mr.  Anders," 
he  said,  l '  I  'm  ready  to  pay  you  the  money. ' ' 

Looking  up,  King  Anders  seemed  to  recog- 
nize Pat  for  the  first  time.  He  stood  still  for 
a  moment,  saying  nothing.  Then  he  crossed 
over  to  the  table,  took  the  pen  which  Pat  of- 
fered, released  the  mortgage,  counted  the 
money  and  put  it  into  his  pocket.  Then  he  got 
up  and  leaned  forward  over  the  table. 

"So,"  he  growled,  "you  get  in  my  way 
again,  huh  1  You  '11  do  it  once  too  many  times 
yet." 

"Heh!"  cried  old  Williams,  as  the  King 
stalked  out,  ' '  He  's  a  dangerous  man,  he  is ! " 


XV 


A  DAY  or  two  later  Pat  met  Miss  Jack  on 
the  street. 

"I  know  now  why  we  Ve  seen  so  little  of 
you,"  she  said.  ''You  were  reading  law  all 
the  time.  Did  you  know  that  Antje  was  visit- 
ing Pauline  Schumacher  this  week  I ' ' 

"No,"  he  answered.  "I  must  go  to  call  on 
her." 

He  went  that  evening.  There  was  surely  no 
reason  why  he  should  stay  away.  For  the 
girl's  sake  he  had  put  out  of  his  mind  any 
thought  of  trying  to  win  her  for  his  wife.  But 
that  did  not  compel  him  never  to  see  her.  Old 
man  Schumacher  opened  the  door  to  him. 

"So,  we  're  a  lawyer  yet,  huhf"  he  said 
with  a  broad  smile.  "Come  in  once." 

"I  came  to  call  on  Miss  Anders,"  Pat  ven- 
tured. 

"Well,"  old  Schumacher  quavered  good-na- 

160 


THE    UPSTART  161 

turedly,  "she  been  out  sleigh-riding  with  Tom 
Halm  yet.    Aber  come  in. ' ' 

"No,"  answered  the  crestfallen  Pat.  "I 
can't  stop  to-night,  thank  you.  Will  you  tell 
her  that  I  '11  call  to-morrow  evening. ' ' 

As  he  reached  the  gate  a  sleigh  drove  up. 
Out  of  it  sprang  Tom  Hahn. 

"Why,  it  's  Pat  McCormick,"  cried  Tom. 

"Good-evening,  Pat,"  called  a  voice  from 
the  sleigh.  He  walked  to  the  curb  and  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  him.  The  touch  of  it  thrilled 
him. 

"Antje,"  he  began,  then  stopped  to  look  at 
her.  She  wore  a  fur  coat  that  nestled  close 
under  the  curve  of  her  dainty  chin  and  her 
beautiful  hair  was  topped  by  a  fur-trimmed 
hat,  with  a  long  gray  feather  in  it.  Her  cheeks 
were  red  with  the  roses  of  the  winter  air. 

"I  hope  you  're  well,"  he  stammered  awk- 
wardly. 

"Do  I  look  ill?"  she  smiled.  "When  am  I 
going  to  see  you  ? ' ' 

"May  I  call  to-morrow  night!"  he  asked, 
and  wondered  if  she  noticed  how  his  voice 
trembled. 
11 


162  THE    UPSTART 

"Yes,  and  be  sure  you  come,"  she  warned 
him,  playfully,  as  Tom  Hahn  helped  her  to 
alight. 

Pat  trod  the  air  as  he  walked  home  that 
night.  At  her  smile  and  the  touch  of  her  hand 
the  fortress  of  his  resolution  had  crumbled. 
He  would  win  her  yet,  let  the  grim  old  King 
do  his  worst.  For  her  own  sake— as  well  as  his 
own— he  would  make  the  fight. 

But  when  he  called  at  the  Schumachers'  the 
next  evening,  Antje  took  instant  command  of 
the  situation.  She  was  cordial  and  most 
friendly  and  there  were  no  other  callers,  but 
not  once  was  he  alone  with  her  for  a  moment. 
Pauline  Schumacher  or  her  father  was  always 
in  the  room  and  poor  Pat  felt  that  she  had 
planned  it  so. 

Only  when  he  rose  to  go,  Antje  walked  with 
him  into  the  dimly-lighted  hall. 

"Pat,"  she  said  as  he  was  putting  on  his 
overcoat,  "seriously,  I  want  to  congratulate 
you  on  your  admission  to  the  bar.  I  want  you 
to  become  a  great  lawyer.  I  'm  going  home 
to-morrow  and  back  to  school  Monday,  so  I 
shan't  see  you  again,  but  I  '11  always  want  to 
know  how  you  are  and  what  you  are  doing." 


THE   UPSTART  163 

Pat  turned  and  took  her  hand.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  vigor  with  which  he  pressed  it  that 
sent  the  rosy  tide  to  her  cheeks.  A  tender 
confession  was  trembling  on  his  lips,  when  old 
Mrs.  Schumacher  came  bustling  out  into  the 
hall  from  the  kitchen. 

"Well,  Mr.  McCormick,"  she  burst  out, 
'  *  You  must  think  I  'm  mighty  inhospitable  not 
coming  in  to  see  you  all  evening,  but  the  truth 
is  I  've  been  in  jell  all  day  and  I  just  could  n't 
sleep  to-night  till  I  did  up  the  last  of  these  cran- 
berries. They  're  just  lovely,  too.  I  've 
brought  out  a  glass  of  it  that  I  want  you  to 
take  home  to  your  maw." 

Pat  went  out  into  the  night  with  both  his 
mind  and  the  glass  of  jelly  upside  down.  Antje  's 
speech  in  the  hall,  her  actions  all  the  evening, 
seemed  to  indicate  that  she  had  a  friendly  in- 
terest in  his  welfare  and  nothing  more,  and 
that  she  was  anxious  to  have  him  understand 
it  so.  Perhaps— probably — she  was  already 
engaged  to  Tom  Hahn.  He  knew  that  to  avow 
his  own  love  would  be  certain  to  bring  upon 
her  the  fierce  rage  of  her  old  father.  Was 
it  not  the  part  of  a  man  to  spare  her  this  ter- 
rible ordeal— to  give  her  up,  without  effort, 


164  THE    UPSTART 

into  the  keeping  of  one  towards  whom  King 
Anders  could  harbor  no  such  bitter  hate! 

Troubled  in  mind,  with  the  instinct  of  self- 
abnegation  and  the  demands  of  a  yearning 
love  struggling  for  the  command  of  his  will, 
Pat  went  the  next  evening  to  visit  his  old 
friend  and  confidant,  the  Captain.  That  an- 
cient mariner  had  been  invalided  home  from 
the  war  with  his  left  leg  shattered  below  the 
knee.  Before  a  writ  of  ejection  was  served 
on  him,  he  had  taken  up  his  abode  on 'a  little 
island  in  the  channel  of  the  river,  where  he  set 
up  a  duplicate  of  his  old  cabin,  with  all  his  old 
treasures  in  place. 

"And  now,"  he  announced,  when  the  new 
abode  was  completed,  "I  feel  more  to  home 
than  ever,  being  used,  as  the  geography  says, 
to  being  entirely  surrounded  by  water. ' ' 

"Come  in,  Fust  Mate,"  he  said,  when  Pat, 
walking  across  on  the  ice,  had  climbed  the 
bridge  and  knocked  on  the  door.  "There  's  a 
good  fire  going  in  the  chart-room." 

The  Captain  puffed  his  corn-cob  pipe  and 
looked  shrewdly  at  his  visitor.  ' '  There  seems 
to  be  something  on  your  mind,  Fust  Mate, ' '  he 


THE   UPSTART  165 

said.  Already  he  knew  in  a  general  way  how 
the  ground  lay.  He  had  been  told  of  the  scene 
in  King  Anders'  garden  and  of  what  had  im- 
mediately followed  it.  Besides,  he  loved  the 
boy,  and  it  took  but  a  few  awkward  sentences 
to  put  the  situation  clearly  before  him.  He 
puffed  hard  at  his  pipe  and  cleared  his  throat. 

"You  remember  that  letter  I  sent  you  from 
the  front?"  he  said. 

Pat  nodded,  wondering  why  the  old  man 
should  choose  this  time  to  go  back  into  ancient 
history.  What  bearing  could  that  have  on  this 
present  problem? 

"I  said  that  some  time  I  'd  tell  you  why  I 
took  such  an  interest  in  clearing  John  Higgins, 
a  man  I  never  talked  to  in  my  life,  even  at  the 
cost  of  getting  you  into  trouble.  I  'm  going 
to  tell  you  now. 

"My  father  was  a  whaler  before  me.  He 
was  master  of  the  Polly  L.  of  Bedford,  and 
when  he  married  he  took  his  wife  with  him 
on  his  next  vyage.  I  Ve  told  you  I  was  born 
at  Bedford,  but  that  was  n't  true,  plainly 
speaking,  for  we  was  ten  months  out  and 
cruising  the  South  Pacific  when  I  signed 


166  THE    UPSTART 

the  ship 's  articles.  Having  salt  water  in  my 
veins,  instead  of  blood,  I  took  to  the  sea  on  nay 
own  hook  when  I  was  old  enough  to  handle  a 
rope.  I  was  a  middling  smart  sailorman,  too. 
At  twenty- four  I  was  second  mate  of  a  whal- 
ing-ship and  at  twenty-eight  the  fust  mate.  It 
was  then  that  I  fust  set  eyes  on  Annie. ' ' 

The  old  man  stopped  a  moment,  relighted 
his  pipe,  and  stared  into  the  fire,  where  drift- 
wood was  burning  briskly. 

"Her  pa  was  one  of  the  big  ship-owners  of 
Bedford.  A  fleet  of  forty  sailed  under  the  en- 
sign of  Bilson  &  Sturges  and  the  firm  name 
was  knowed  in  a  hundred  ports,  from  Siberia 
to  the  Injun  Ocean.  Annie  lived  in  a  big  stone 
house  on  Mansion  Street  and  drove  about  in 
her  carriage.  I  was  the  fust  mate  of  one  of 
her  father's  ships.  But  I  fell  in  love  with  her, 
and  Annie  B.— she  took  something  of  a  liking 
to  me.  When  old  man  Bilson  found  out  how 
things  were  going  he  blew  a  gale  from  the 
nor '-northwest.  He  give  out  orders  that  there 
was  no  berth  for  me  on  any  of  the  B.  &  S. 
whalers  and  he  packed  the  girl  off  to  visit  her 
uncle  in  Boston. 


THE    UPSTART  167 

"But  that  did  n't  feaze  me  none.  I  was  a 
young  feller  and  a  determined  one,  and  as 
soon  as  I  got  another  berth  as  fust  mate  on 
one  of  Ferguson's  whalers,  I  hunted  up  Annie 
and  her  and  me  run  off  to  Nantucket,  where  a 
sky-pilot  spliced  us,  good  and  trim  and 
proper. ' ' 

1 ' 1  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me  about 
John  Higgins,  Captain  ? ' '  said  Pat. 

' '  That  's  what  I  'm  a-doing,  Fust  Mate, ' '  an- 
swered the  Captain,  with  a  smile.  "You  jist 
set  and  listen. 

"When  old  man  Bilson  heard  the  news,  he 
raised  a  hurricane ;  sent  word  that  Annie  was 
dead  to  him  and  that  he  never  wanted  to  see 
either  of  us  again.  We  was  both  sorry  for 
that,  but  still  mighty  glad  that  we  'd  got  mar- 
ried. A  good  many  whalers  took  their  wives 
with  them  on  their  vyages,  but  I  thought  Annie 
had  been  raised  too  tender  to  stand  life  on  a 
ship  for  a  couple  of  years — let  alone  the  dan- 
ger. I  bought  her  a  little  cottage  in  Bedford 
and  left  her  there. 

"My  first  vyage  was  a  short  one— little 
more  'n  a  year.  When  we  come  sailing  into 


168  THE    UPSTART 

the  Ferguson  docks,  with  our  hold  full  of 
sperm  oil,  there  was  Annie  waiting  for  me, 
waving  her  handkerchief  and  throwing  kisses 
as  we  warped  in.  And  beside  her  was  her 
father,  old  Benjamin  Bilson,  head  of  the  firm 
of  Bilson  &  Sturges,  tall  silk  hat,  brass-but- 
toned coat,  high  white  collar  and  all.  He  was 
holding  something  up  in  his  arms  for  me  to  see. 
Pretty  soon  I  makes  out  it  was  a  little  kiddie 
in  a  long  white  dress, — my  baby,  my  little  son, 
Fust  Mate." 

The  Captain  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his 
pipe  with  much  unnecessary  vehemence.  Then 
he  reloaded  it  and  picked  up  a  blazing  splinter 
from  the  fire  to  serve  as  a  lighter.  Carelessly, 
he  held  the  flame  so  closely  to  his  face  that  it 
made  his  eyes  water. 

' '  Dum  the  thing  ennyhow ! "  he  said  fiercely, 
throwing  pipe  and  all  into  the  fire. 

"Wall,  as  I  was  saying,  I  made  a  jump  from 
the  rail  when  we  got  within  ten  feet  of  the  dock 
and  the  next  minute  I  was  holding  Annie  B.  in 
my  arms. 

"  'Here  's  your  son,  sir,"  said  old  man  Bil- 
son, handing  over  the  kiddie.  'It  's  grand- 


THE    UPSTART  169 

mother  is  waiting  to  welcome  you  up  to  the 
house. ' 

' '  That  night  we  had  a  family  reunion  up  to 
the  big  stone  house  on  Mansion  Street.  For  a 
month  I  went  around  walking  on  air,  feeling 
plum  sorry  for  everybody  else  on  earth,  they 
not  having  no  Annie  B.  nor  kiddie  to  make 
things  worth  while." 

The  Captain  blew  his  nose  loudly,  then  got 
up  and  stumped  across  the  chart-room  on  his 
wooden  peg.  He  put  one  gnarled  old  hand  on 
Pat's  shoulder. 

"If  you  love  a  girl,  Fust  Mate,"  he  said, 
"the  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  up-anchor,  clap 
on  every  rag  you  can  carry,  steer  through  the 
breakers  and  past  the  rocks,  damn  the  torpe- 
does, like  Farragut  done,  and  let  nothing  on 
earth  stop  yer,  till  you  git  into  the  harbor  of 
your  soul's  desire — as  the  poet  says.  You 
hear  me ! ' ' 

"Yes,  Captain,"  said  Pat  quickly,  anxious 
not  to  further  arouse  the  old  man's  deeply- 
stirred  emotions,  "but  what  has  this  got  to  do 
with  John  Higgins  I ' ' 

"From  this  time  on  it  's  got  all  to  do  with 


170  THE    UPSTART 

him,"  said  the  Captain,  going  back  to  his 
chair.  "Old  Mr.  Bilson  offered  me  a  good 
place  on  shore,  but  I  was  too  proud  and  stub- 
born to  accept  any  favors  from  him.  I  got  a 
berth  as  master  of  Ferguson 's  new  whaler  and 
he  let  me  christen  her  the  Annie  B.  Three 
months  later  I  took  her  out.  My  wife  is  plum 
distracted  to  go  along,  but  'No,'  I  says,  hold- 
ing the  kid  in  my  arms,  'I  ain't  going  to  risk 
carrying  this  bundle  of  sweetness  around  the 
Horn.  I  '11  be  back  in  less  than  two  years,  any- 
how, and  then  we  '11  all  settle  down  and  stay 
land  lubbers  as  long  as  the  ship  hangs  to- 
gether. ' 

"So,  off  we  sails,  with  Annie  B.  standing  on 
Ferguson's  dock  and  waving  a  handkerchief 
at  her  namesake  as  long  as  we  're  in  sight. 

"Wall,  Fust  Mate,  less  than  six  months 
afterwards  we  strikes  one  of  them  Chinese 
twisters  out  in  the  Pacific  and  it  blows  the  rig- 
gin'  plum  out  of  us.  The  Annie  B.  springs 
a  leak  and  I  and  the  crew  takes  to  the  boats. 
We  lands  on  an  island,  jest  like  you  read  about 
in  the  story  books,  and  there  we  stays  for  four 
years  and  three  months,  till  a  tea  ship  happens 


THE   UPSTART  171 

to  send  in  a  boat  for  water  and  takes  those  of 
us  who  are  left  back  to  New  York. 

"  First  thing  I  found  out  was  that  the  firm 
of  Bilson  &  Sturges  was  no  longer  in  existence. 
Old  man  Bilson  had  died  three  and  a  half  years 
before— a  bankrupt,  not  leaving  enough  money 
to  pay  his  debts.  That  made  me  powerful  anx- 
ious about  Annie  B.  and  I  lit  out  for  Bedford. 
Them  five  years  away  had  changed  me  to  an 
old  man  and  nobody  knew  me.  The  big  stone 
house  on  Mansion  Street  was  turned  into  a  hos- 
pital and  strangers  was  living  in  the  cottage 
I  'd  bought  for  Annie  B.  When  I  found  that 
out  I  never  let  on  who  I  was,  but  I  stayed 
around  Bedford  for  a  month,  picking  up  what 
news  I  could. 

"  Seems  like  the  wreckage  of  the  Annie  B. 
had  been  found  drifting  around  the  South  Seas 
and  word  came  back  to  Bedford  that  we 
was  all  lost.  That  was  jest  after  Annie  B.'s 
father  died.  Then  she  had  nobody  left  to  care 
for  but  the  kiddie.  The  next  year  he  took  sick 
and  died  of  the  dypthery. 

' '  Poor  girl !  I  ain  't  blaming  her  a  bit  when 
pretty  soon  an  old  lover  of  hers  come  along 


172  THE    UPSTART 

and  she  up  and  married  him.  Then  right  away 
they  left  Bedford  and  goes  nobody  knows 
where.  The  hull  Bilson  family  had  jest  van- 
ished off  the  face  of  the  earth. 

' l  Eight  then  and  there  I  histed  a  new  flag— 
my  old  name  was  Silas  Bright— and  I  been 
sailing  under  it  ever  since.  I  went  on  three 
more  whaling  vyages  under  the  name  of  John 
Edwards  and  got  together  six  thousand  dol- 
lars. Then  it  just  seemed  to  me  I  must  go 
and  hunt  up  Annie  B.  and  see  if  she  was  well 
and  happy— if  that  husband  of  hers  was  treat- 
ing her  right. 

' '  It  tuck  a  long  time,  Fust  Mate,  but  I  found 
her  at  last.  I  found  her  right  here  in  Liberty 
and  her  name  is  Mrs.  John  Higgins ! ' ' 

Pat  had  been  staring  at  the  Captain  with 
wide  eyes  of  incredulity.  Now  he  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  started  to  speak,  but  the  old  man 
waved  a  restraining  hand. 

"Set  right  down,  Fust  Mate,"  he  said, 
' '  That  's  all  there  is  to  it  and  you  and  I  are  the 
only  humans  that  knows  it.  Annie  B.  's  happy 
with  her  husband  and  children  and  I  'm  dead, ' ' 
—he  smiled  grimly — "My  tombstone  's  been 


THE   UPSTART  173 

a-standing  for  thirty  years  in  the  Baptist 
graveyard  at  Bedford." 

There  was  a  moment's  complete  silence.  It 
was  broken  by  the  Captain.  He  stumped  over 
to  Pat's  chair  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"It  's  time  you  were  going  home,  Fust 
Mate,"  he  said.  "No,"  he  broke  in  as  Pat 
started  to  speak, ' '  I  don 't  want  to  hear  another 
word  about  it.  But  remember  this.  Don 't  you 
let  anything  stand  between  you  and  the  girl." 


XVI 

PAT  McCOKMICK  leaned  back  in  his  office 
chair,  his  feet  on  the  table,  reading  the 
Liberty  Clarion.  Presently  his  casual  eye 
focused  on  the  following  item,  which  seemed 
to  burn  against  the  white  paper  in  wavering 
letters  of  fire: 

"It  is  reported  that  the  engagement  will  soon  be 
announced  of  the  son  of  one  of  our  most  prominent 
attorneys  and  the  only  daughter  of  perhaps  the 
largest  land-owner  in  the  county." 

The  paper  slipped  unnoticed  to  the  floor.  It 
was  true  then !  A  pang,  physical  in  the  inten- 
sity of  its  pain,  shot  through  him.  But  per- 
haps the  paper  was  wrong.  If  it  had  been  based 
on  anything  more  than  mere  gossip  the  names 
would  surely  have  been  printed.  Uncertainty 
was  maddening.  Moreover,  the  parting  injunc- 
tion of  the  old  Captain  was  fresh  in  his  mind. 

174 


THE   UPSTART  175 

As  Pat  walked  up  the  wide  avenue  of  great 
oaks  which  leads  to  the  main  building  of  the 
old  Bickford  Seminary  that  evening,  he  sud- 
denly became  conscious  that  from  fifty  win- 
dows girlish  faces  were  peeping  down  at  him. 
He  straightened  his  five  feet  six  to  its  full 
height,  painfully  aware  that  towering  stature 
and  the  broad  shoulders  of  a  gladiator  were 
needed  to  be  properly  impressive.  The  big 
Swedish  maid  who  opened  the  door,  glanced 
down  at  his  freckled,  boyish  face,  and,  without 
troubling  to  ask  for  a  card,  said,  "Step  in." 
Inside  the  hall  Pat  heard  the  sound  of  half  sup- 
pressed giggles  and,  looking  up,  caught  a 
momentary  glimpse  of  sparkling  eyes  peer- 
ing over  the  banister  railing. 

The  maid,  never  stopping  to  ask  his  errand, 
had  gone  straight  to  the  office  of  Miss  Sophro- 
nia  Hunks,  the  chatelaine  of  that  rosebud 
garden  of  girls. 

"Miss  Sophronia,"  said  the  maid,  "there  's 
a  boy  waiting  in  the  reception-room." 

Up  rose  Miss  Sophronia,  on  her  guard  at 
once,  as  she  always  was  when  anything  mas- 
culine invaded  her  sacred  portals,  and  with 


176  THE    UPSTART 

slow  and  stately  steps  descended  to  the  recep- 
tion-room. Very  tall,  very  thin  and  very 
short-sighted  was  Miss  Sophronia,  and  as  she 
swept  into  the  room  Pat  could  almost  feel  the 
icy  current  of  air  which  accompanied  her.  She 
adjusted  her  glasses. 

"Well,  my  boy,"  she  said,  "what  can  I  do 
for  you  I ' ' 

This,  then,  was  the  climax!  To  bring  the 
burning  soul  of  a  tragic  hero  into  the  icy  pres- 
ence of  a  venerable  maiden  lady  who  treats 
one  as  a  child ! 

Up  from  his  chair  rose  Pat,  as  dignified  as 
Miss  Sophronia  herself. 

"Madam,"  he  said  in  that  deep  bass  voice 
which  always  startled  those  unaccustomed  to 
it,  "I  am  Patrick  McCormick.  Allow  me  to 
present  my  card." 

Miss  Sophronia  gingerly  took  the  bit  of 
paste-board  in  her  long,  white  fingers.  Look- 
ing over  her  glasses  she  read  upon  it,  * '  Patrick 
McCormick,  Attorney  and  Counselor-at-law. 
Notary  Public." 

Miss  Sophronia 's  dignified  complacency, 
which  had  supported  her  in  so  many  difficult 


THE   UPSTART  177 

situations,  deserted  her  entirely.  She  had  made 
a  most  mortifying  and  embarrassing  mistake. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  she  stammered 
uncertainly,  but  Pat  interrupted  her  with  a 
bow. 

"I  have  called  to  see  Miss  Antje  Anders  on 
a  matter  of  importance,"  he  said.  "May  I 
trouble  you  to  ask  her  to  come  down  ? ' ' 

The  combination  of  the  startling  card  and 
of  the  tremendous  voice,  most  of  all  her  own 
blushing  embarrassment,  were  too  much  for 
Miss  Sophronia  Hunks.  For  the  first  time  in 
her  life  she  found  herself  at  a  loss  for  a  word. 

"Certainly,  sir,"  she  stammered,  as  Pat 
bowed  her  grandly  out  of  the  room. 

"Why,  Pat,"  said  Antje,  a  few  moments 
later,  with  her  hand  outstretched  to  him, 
"what  's  the  matter?  And  what  in  the  world 
did  you  do  to  Miss  Hunks  1 ' ' 

' '  Nothing, ' '  he  answered,  rising  to  meet  her 
and  holding  her  hand  in  his  own. 

"She  opened  the  door  of  my  room  just  now 
and  said:  'Miss  Anders  there  's  an  attorney 
waiting  to  see  you  in  the  reception-room. 
Here  's  his  card. '  Then  she  threw  the  card  on 

12 


178  THE    UPSTART 

my  bed  and  almost  ran  away.  I  was  fright- 
ened half  to  death  till  I  read  your  name. ' ' 

"Don't  you  know  why  I  Ve  come  down  to 
see  you!"  Pat  asked.  He  looked  straight  at 
her  as  she  leaned  back  against  the  cushions  of 
a  great  easy-chair  and  she  must  have  seen  the 
reason  in  his  eyes.  They  were  honest  eyes  and 
they  adored  her,  from  the  tip  of  her  slipper  to 
the  dimple  in  her  tilted  chin. 

"It  took  courage  anyhow,"  she  countered. 
"Miss  Hunks  usually  freezes  young  men  who 
come  here  to  call.  Sha'n't  I  ask  Jack  Hahn 
to  come  down?" 

' '  I  came  to  see  you, ' '  he  said.  ' '  I  can 't  wait 
any  longer  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you." 

The  girl  looked  at  him  with  pained,  appeal- 
ing eyes.  ' '  0,  Pat,  you  must  n  't, "  she  began. 

"If  there  is  some  one  else— 

"No,"  she  interrupted,  "there  is  no  one 
else— not  yet,"  she  stammered.  "I  can't  ex- 
plain. I  don't  know.  But— 

' '  I  have  n 't  much  to  offer.  And  your  father 
— I  tried  hard.  I  decided  I  would  never  tell 
you.  But  I  can 't  help  it.  I  love  you  so. ' ' 

"I  hoped  you  would  n't.  I  did  n't  want  you 
to.  When  I  think  of  father—  " 


THE   UPSTAET  179 

"Ever  since  I  saw  you  in  the  school-house  I 
have  loved  you.  Won't  you  say— 

"Don't,  Pat,"  she  broke  in  hurriedly.  "I 
can 't  listen  to  you.  It  's  all  wrong— ' ' 

The  clock  on  the  marble  mantel-piece  chimed 
ten  o'clock  in  a  very  cold,  metallic  voice.  At 
the  same  instant  they  were  left  sitting  in  total 
darkness. 

"What  's  the  matter?"  asked  the  startled 
Pat,  springing  to  his  feet. 

The  girl  was  laughing  in  a  relieved,  half  hys- 
terical way. 

"It  's  nothing,"  she  said.  "The  lights  go 
out  all  over  the  house  at  ten  o'clock  and  I  for- 
got to  warn  you.  I  '11  lead  you  to  the  front 
door." 

They  groped  their  way  down  the  long,  dark 
hall.  From  the  stairway  above  them  came  the 
sound  of  suppressed  giggles.  At  the  door  Pat 
stopped,  bent  over  and  kissed  the  girl's  hand. 

"Please  write  me,"  he  whispered. 

"No,"  she  answered.  "Not  until  I— good- 
night." 

Next  day  Sally  Wagner,  writing  her  semi- 
weekly  letter  to  her  mother  in  Liberty,  men- 
tioned, quite  incidentally,  as  among  the  happen- 


180  THE    UPSTART 

ings  of  the  week  at  the  seminary  that  they  had 
had  prunes  three  times  for  dinner  and  that  Pat 
McCormick  had  been  down  to  call  on  Antje 
Anders.  Mrs.  Wagner,  quite  as  incidentally, 
told  her  husband  the  same  bit  of  gossip  at  the 
breakfast-table. 

So  when  King  Anders  came  in  to  see  his  law- 
yer a  few  days  later,  that  amiable  person  had 
a  fine  bit  of  news  for  him. 


XVII 

THE  spring  campaign  was  well  under  way 
in  Liberty  County.  For  the  first  time 
since  the  war  the  Democrats  had  thought  it 
worth  while  to  nominate  a  full  county  ticket. 
Their  candidate  for  prosecuting  attorney  was 
a  young  lawyer  named  Hiram  Hector,  not  long 
resident  in  the  village. 

A  month  before  election  day  Hector  was 
called  back  by  telegraph  to  his  old  home  in 
central  New  York.  His  father  was  critically 
ill.  Before  his*son  arrived,  the  old  man  died, 
leaving  his  estate  badly  involved.  Hector 
promptly  wrote  John  Higgins,  the  chairman 
of  the  county  committee,  that  he  would  be  de- 
tained in  the  east  for  months;  possibly  he 
might  never  return  to  Liberty.  At  any  rate, 
he  withdrew  from  the  ticket  and  asked  the 
committee  to  name  in  his  place  a  candidate  who 
could  make  an  active  canvass. 

181 


182  THE    UPSTAKT 

The  committee  met  to  take  action.  Members 
had  consulted  with  several  prominent  lawyers, 
none  of  whom  would  allow  the  use  of  his  name. 
Chairman  Higgins  said  nothing  till  all  the 
others  had  expressed  themselves.  In  his 
pocket  he  had  a  note,  which  had  been  written 
by  the  Captain,  but  which  was  signed  "Vox 
Populi." 

"Why  don't  you  put  young  Pat  McCormick 
in  the  place  of  Hector?"  it  said.  "You  fel- 
lows need  the  Irish  vote  and  he  can  get  it. 
Then  there  are  lots  of  young  Republicans  who 
will  vote  for  him  and  he  'd  make  you  a  red-hot 
campaign. ' ' 

Higgins  read  the  note  aloud.  ' '  What  do  you 
think  about  that?"  he  asked. 

Old  man  Williams,  who  served  as  treasurer 
of  the  campaign  committee,  cleared  his  throat. 

"I  don't  know  about  putting  Mike  McCor- 
mick's  son  on  our  ticket,"  he  objected. 

"Don't  you  remember  the  letter  Mike's 
Colonel  wrote  when  he  was  killed?"  Higgins 
asked.  "And  Anders  is  n't  the  most  popular 
man  in  Liberty  County,  anyhow.  Nobody  but  a 
fool  would  raise  that  issue  against  Pat." 


THE   UPSTART  183 

Other  names  were  mentioned  and  discussed 
and  further  objections  were  made  to  the  selec- 
tion of  Pat  McCormick,  but,  in  the  absence  of 
any  active  candidates  for  the  place,  it  was 
finally  decided  to  appoint  Higgins  and  Wil- 
liams a  committee  to  confer  with  Pat  and  offer 
him  the  nomination. 

They  found  him  at  his  office,  in  conference 
with  a  roughly-dressed  young  man,  whose 
right  arm  was  suspended  in  a  sling,  and  who, 
at  the  sight  of  the  distinguished  callers,  got  up 
to  leave. 

"No,  keep  your  seat,  Joe,"  Pat  said,  bow- 
ing to  Higgins  and  Williams.  "Take  chairs, 
gentlemen.  I  '11  see  you  in  a  minute." 

"He  's  a  born  politician,"  Higgins  whis- 
pered to  his  companion.  ' '  He  's  made  a  friend 
of  that  fellow  for  life.  You  can't  beat  the 
Irish." 

But  Williams,  who  did  not  enjoy  waiting  for 
a  railroad  brakeman,  only  growled. 

"Pat,"  said  Higgins  presently  as  the  client 
went  out,  "how  would  you  like  to  be  prosecut- 
ing attorney  of  Liberty  County?" 

"Very  much,"  he  answered  promptly,  with 


184  THE    UPSTART 

a  smile.  Then  as  he  glanced  at  the  face  of  old 
AVilliams:  "What  's  the  joke?" 

"Hector  's  withdrawn  and  we  thought  you 
might  catch  the  Irish  vote  and  a  lot  of  the 
young  fellows  for  us." 

"You  're  in  earnest,  then!" 

"So  far  as  the  Democratic  nomination  goes, 
we  are." 

The  splendor  of  the  unexpected  offer  gave 
his  ambition  wings.  Through  all  his  body  he 
felt  the  nerves  tingle.  Here  was  a  chance. 
And  a  chance  was  what  he  wanted. 

"I  'm  young,"  he  said.  "There  's  lots  of 
better  lawyers." 

"Yes,  that  's  so,"  frankly  assented  Wil- 
liams, '  *  but  they  won 't  none  of  'em  take  it. ' ' 

Higgins  and  Pat  both  broke  out  into  a  laugh. 

"It  ain't  that  bad,  Pat,"  said  Higgins. 
"The  older  men  can't  afford  to  take  the  office 
and  we  think  you  '11  run  the  best  of  the  young 
fellows.  A  Democratic  nomination  don't 
usually  amount  to  much  in  Liberty  County,  but 
this  is  an  off-year  and  we  Ve  got  a  chance." 

"I  'd  like  nothing  better  than  to  make  a  fight 
for  it,"  declared  Pat. 


THE   UPSTART  185 

"Of  course,"  broke  in  old  Williams,  "we  '11 
expect  you  to  make  a  contribution  to  the  cam- 
paign fund.  Hector  put  in  $500. ' ' 

Pat's  eyebrows  fell,  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  drooped.  "I  'm  afraid  that  lets  me 
out, ' '  he  said.  ' '  I  have  n  't  got  the  money. ' ' 

Higgins  glared  angrily  at  the  treasurer. 
"Oh,  that  can  be  arranged  all  right.  I  '11 
attend  to  that  for  you." 

"Why,  yes,"  spoke  up  Williams,  not  to  be 
outdone  in  generosity.  "I  '11  let  you  have  the 
money  myself.  At  seven  per  cent.,  too." 

"I  could  n't  run  on  borrowed  money,"  said 
Pat,  grinning  to  conceal  his  disappointment. 
"You  '11  have  to  get  another  candidate." 

"We  '11  not  take  no  for  an  answer  now," 
said  Higgins,  anxious  to  get  old  Williams  out 
of  the  room  before  he  complicated  matters  fur- 
ther. "Think  it  over  and  we  '11  come  back 
to-morrow." 

Hardly  had  they  left  before  the  Captain 
came  stumping  into  the  office,  in  the  most  cas- 
ual way  possible. 

"Thought  I  'd  come  in  and  see  the  new 
shop, ' '  he  said.  * '  How  are  things  going  f  Met 


186  THE    UPSTART 

old  man  Williams  going  down  the  stairs  just 
now.  Is  he  one  of  your  clients'?" 

"He  and  John  Higgins  have  just  been  here 
to  offer  me  the  Democratic  nomination  for 
prosecuting  attorney,"  said  Pat. 

"Well,  I  want  to  know!"  ejaculated  the 
Captain,  with  an  air  of  great  surprise.  "I 
surely  want  to  know!  And  you  tuck  it,  I 
guess ! ' ' 

"I  could  n't,"  answered  Pat  soberly.  "I 
have  n  't  got  five  hundred  dollars  to  put  into  the 
campaign  funds." 

The  Captain's  eyes  narrowed  shrewdly,  as 
he  glanced  quickly  at  Pat's  melancholy  face, 
then  stared  out  of  the  window. 

"That  's  surely  too  bad,"  he  said  and 
waited. 

"Higgins  offered  to  put  up  the  money  for 
me,  but,  of  course,  I  could  n 't  run  on  borrowed 
money. ' ' 

"No,  of  course  not.    Then  you  declined?" 

"They  would  n't  let  me  say  no.  They  're 
coming  back  to-morrow  to  hear  me  say  it." 

If  Pat  had  been  alert  he  might  have  seen  the 
spasm  of  relief  which  ran  up  the  Captain's 


THE   UPSTART  187 

wrinkled  face  from  chin  to  eyebrows,  but  he 
was  looking  down  at  the  table  under  the  bur- 
den of  his  disappointment. 

"They  ain't  no  way  that  a  feller  that  ain't 
got  a  cent  can  help  you,  I  guess, ' '  said  the  Cap- 
tain, drawing  a  long  breath. 

"No,  Captain,"  Pat  answered,  getting  up 
from  his  seat.  ' '  Maybe  I  '11  get  another  chance 
some  time.  I  thank  you  just  as  much." 

When  the  old  man  went  out  he  closed  the 
door  behind  him,  then  quickly  dodged  down 
the  hall  and  into  Judge  Hahn's  office.  This 
door  he  also  closed  and  locked  behind  him. 

"Well,  Edwards?"  said  the  Judge,  looking 
up,  with  a  smile.  "You  must  have  some  very 
private  business  on  hand?" 

"Judge,  you  got  two  thousand  dollars  of 
mine,  ain  't  you  ? " 

The  money  had  been  in  Judge  Hahn  's  hands 
for  investment  for  fifteen  years,  but  the  Cap- 
tain always  spoke  as  if  he  had  doubts  about  it. 

"I  've  got  to  git  five  hundred  of  it  right 
away. ' ' 

' '  I  can  get  it  for  you  at  the  bank.  But  what 
do  you  want  that  much  money  for?" 


188  THE    UPSTART 

The  Captain  put  a  gnarled  forefinger  along- 
side his  nose. 

1 '  You  know  us  sailors,  Jedge.  I  'm  a-going 
on  a  big  bat.  Kin  I  sit  down  in  your  back 
room  and  write  a  letter  while  you  git  the 
money?  I  want  it  all  in  one  bill.  And  lock 
the  door  behind  you." 

When  the  Judge  returned,  the  Captain  held 
a  much  blotted  sheet  of  foolscap. 

1 1  Now,  I  got  to  git  this  copied, ' '  he  said. 

"I  '11  do  it  for  you,"  the  Judge  answered, 
taking  the  sheet  from  his  hands  and  sitting 
down  to  his  table. 

"Disgeese  your  hand,  Jedge,"  urged  the 
Captain,  looking  over  his  shoulder,  "and  spill 
on  a  few  blots. ' ' 

"You  damned  old  cuss!"  said  Judge  Hahn, 
as  he  finished,  throwing  one  arm  around  the 
old  sailor's  shoulders. 

"Pretty  good  one,  eh,  Jedge?"  snickered 
the  Captain,  as  he  slipped  the  bill  into  the  en- 
velope. ' '  Do  you  know  anybody  in  Chicago  you 
could  trust  to  mail  this  vallybill  dockimint?" 

Both  of  them  grinning  like  schoolboys,  the 
Judge  wrote  a  note  to  a  friend  in  Chicago,  ask- 
ing him  to  promptly  remail  the  inclosed  letter 


THE   UPSTART  189 

and  the  two  went  over  to  the  Post  Office  to- 
gether and  dropped  it  into  the  box. 

When  Pat  told  his  mother  and  Aunt  Bridget 
of  the  offer  which  had  come  to  him  and  ex- 
plained how  he  would  be  obliged  to  refuse  it 
for  lack  of  five  hundred  dollars,  his  old  aunt 
was  ready  for  desperate  deeds. 

"Sure  there  'd  be  gold  lace  up  and  down 
the  tail  av  that  long  black  coat  now,  but  fer 
the  lack  av  five  hundurd  dirthy  dollars,"  she 
complained.  "Can't  you  git  hold  av  the 
money  somehow,  Pat  darlin'?  I  '11  go  down 
meself  to-night  and  rob  the  bank." 

"Old  man  Williams  offered  to  loan  it  to 
me, ' '  smiled  Pat,  ' l  and  he  'd  only  charged  me 
seven  per  cent,  interest  at  that." 

"You  go  and  till  old  Williams,  the  dirthy 
spalpeen  that  he  is,  that  your  Aunt  Bridget  '11 
do  his  washin'  and  ironin'  for  th'  rist  av  his 
life— and  may  the  diwle  carry  him  off  to- 
morry — if  he  '11  put  the  money  in  your  hands. ' ' 

Pat  went  down  the  next  morning,  ready,  if 
not  reconciled,  to  repeat  his  declination.  In 
the  post-office  at  noon  there  was  a  letter  for 
him.  It  was  post-marked  Chicago  and  ad- 
dressed in  a  strange  and  illiterate  hand. 


190  THE    UPSTART 

"Dear  Sir,"  it  said.  "Inclosed  please  find 
five  hundred  dollars,  which  I  owed  your  father. 
Him  and  me  was  side  pardners  in  the  same 
company  during  the  war.  Jest  before  he  was 
killed  we  went  in  halves  on  a  two  dollar  lottery 
ticket.  When  the  drawing  came  off,  we  wins 
a  thousand  dollars.  Mike  was  dead  then  and  I 
keeps  the  money.  After  the  war  I  come  to 
Chicago  2tnd  I  Ve  did  well  here.  I  've  al- 
ways knowed  I  'd  ought  to  have  split  up  my 
winnings  with  you,  but  I  ain't  never  come  to 
the  point  till  now.  Anyway,  here  it  is.  Good- 
bye. 

Mike  McCormick's  comrade." 

Enclosed  in  the  envelope  was  a  five  hundred 
dollar  bill.  There  was  absolutely  nothing 
about  the  letter  to  suggest  the  identity  of  the 
sender.  Pat's  first  feeling  was  one  of  aston- 
ishment and  buoyant  delight.  Then  a  suspi- 
cion crept  into  his  mind.  Higgins  had  taken 
this  method  of  sending  him  the  needed  money. 
He  went  straight  to  the  office  in  which  the 
Democratic  campaign  was  being  managed  and 
handed  the  letter  to  the  Chairman. 


THE   UPSTART  191 

"It  's  mighty  good  of  you,  Mr.  Higgins," 
he  said,  "but  I  can't  take  your  money  that 
way." 

"I  never  was  smart  enough  to  get  up  a 
scheme  like  that, ' '  said  Higgins  with  a  roar  of 
laughter  that  made  it  impossible  to  doubt  the 
sincerity  of  his  denial.  "Your  unknown 
debtor  did  n't  forget  to  put  in  the  money,  did 


Pat  took  the  bill  from  his  pocket  and  laid  it 
on  the  desk. 

"Well,  a  fellow  who  's  as  lucky  as  you  are 
can't  be  beat  in  politics,"  laughed  Higgins. 

Williams  came  into  the  room,  attracted  by 
the  unusual  hilarity.  He  stopped  and  stared 
at  the  green-backed  bill  on  the  desk. 

"Mr.  McCormick  has  just  brought  over  his 
contribution  to  the  campaign  fund,  Mr.  Wil- 
liams, ' '  said  Higgins,  watching,  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  the  effect  of  his  announcement  on 
the  mercenary  old  treasurer. 

"Well,  by  Gf-oll!"  said  Williams,  clutching 
his  long  white  beard  as  if  for  support.  ' '  Pat, 
you  did  n't  git  that  money  for  less  'n  seven 
per  cent.,  did  you  1 ' ' 


XVIII 

KING  ANDERS  came  in  from  the  stable, 
looking  black  and  glowering.  The  hired 
men  and  the  six  big  sons,  coatless  and  freshly 
washed,  were  waiting  to  sit  down  at  the  long 
table  in  the  kitchen.  He  hung  his  coat  on  the 
nail  behind  the  door,  and  sat  heavily  down  in 
the  chair  at  the  head  without  uttering  a  word. 
Old  Mrs.  Anders,  busy  about  the  stove,  saw  at  a 
glance  that  her  lord  was  in  a  savage  mood.  The 
King  lifted  a  piece  of  rock  candy  from  its  sau- 
cer by  the  string  to  which  it  was  attached  and 
twirled  it  around  in  his  cup  of  coffee  till  the 
drink  was  sweetened  to  his  taste.  Then  he 
passed  it  to  the  next  man.  Still  he  did  not 
speak. 

''Did  the  hogs  sell  well,  father!"  asked  one 
of  the  boys. 

"No,"  growled  the  King,  without  looking 
up.  But  Mrs.  Anders  was  sure  that  something 
more  important  than  that  was  oppressing  him. 

192 


THE   UPSTART  193 

In  fifteen  minutes  the  meal  was  over.  The 
men  and  boys  had  gorged  to  the  full  and  lum- 
bered out  of  the  room.  Mrs.  Anders  sat  down 
next  to  the  King. 

"What  is  the  matter  yet,  Ander?"  she  said. 

Anders  raised  his  sullen  eyes  from  the  table. 
"Antje  must  come  home  from  that  damn 
school  right  away  quick,"  he  said. 

The  old  woman  flinched  as  from  a  blow  in 
the  face. 

''What  did  she  do?" 

"Do,  huh!"  he  burst  out.  "That  McCor- 
mick  feller  was  down  there  to  Bickford  to  see 
her  two  weeks  ago  yet !  That  's  what  she  do ! " 

"Maybe  so  that  is  a  lie,  Ander!" 

"It  is  no  lie  yet.  Lawyer  Wagner  told  me 
so  his  girl  wrote  a  letter  about  it.  He  is  laugh- 
ing at  me  because  that  upstart  school-teacher 
makes  me  a  fool  out.  I  will  not  stand  it  yet. ' ' 

"She  will  stay  till  the  school  term  gets 
over?"  pleaded  Mrs.  Anders. 

"She  will  come  home  this  week  already," 
roared  the  King,  striking  the  table  with  his 
fist.  "All  the  time  I  know  it  is  damn  foolish- 
ness. I  spend  me  my  money  to  send  her  by 


194  THE    UPSTART 

school  and  how  she  pay  me  back?  When  she 
milk  ten  cows  every  morning  maybe  so  she 
learn  a  little  sense  yet ! ' ' 

"Ander,"  began  his  wife,  "that  McCormick 
feller-" 

"He  is  getting  in  my  way  too  much  al- 
ready," broke  in  the  King.  "Last  year  he 
beat  me  out  of  that  Luders  forty  acres.  Now 
Lawyer  Wagner  makes  shame  of  me  and  says 
I  have  him  for  a  son-in-law  when  I  don't  look 
out.  I  drive  him  out  of  Liberty  County  first ! ' ' 

' '  She  will  promise  never  to—  " 

"Make  a  letter  to  Antje,"  ordered  the  King, 
"and  tell  her  she  must  come  home  on  Satur- 
day." 

That  night  old  Mrs.  Anders  sat  down  and 
laboriously  wrote  a  long  letter  to  her  daugh- 
ter. To  Antje  it  came  like  a  sentence  of  death. 
Far  better  that  she  had  never  left  the  farm. 
Then  she  had  known  nothing  but  the  hard, 
grinding,  coarse  life  to  which  she  had  been 
born ;  now  a  brighter,  happier,  more  inspiring 
world  had  just  been  opened  to  her  and  the  taste 
of  it  was  very  sweet.  She  had  seen  the  light ; 
now  she  was  to  be  dragged  back  into  utter 


THE   UPSTART  195 

darkness.  And  Pat  McCormick  was  responsible 
for  the  calamity  which  had  come  upon  her. 

She  took  the  letter  to  her  room,  locked  the 
door,  threw  herself  on  the  bed  and  wept. 

She  would  not  go  back  to  the  farm  and  settle 
down  there  to  the  life  she  had  left !  .  .  .  But 
where  else  could  she  go  I  What  door  of  escape 
was  open  to  her  ? 

Tom  Hahn  had  asked  her  to  marry  him.  If 
she  but  said  the  word  he  would  come  and  take 
her  away  from  it  all.  That  was  her  way  out. 
She  went  to  her  desk  and  took  out  paper.  Yet 
she  hesitated  ...  If  only  Pat  McCormick 
had  not  come  down  to  Bickford.  From  the  be- 
ginning, almost,  he  had  brought  nothing  but 
sorrow  into  her  life. 

Again  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed  and 
wept.  A  muffled  knock  sounded  on  the  door. 

"Who  is  it,"  asked  Antje,  stifling  her  sobs. 
She  shrank  from  the  inquisitive  presence  of 
one  of  the  teachers. 

"It  is  I— Jack.    Please  let  me  in.'* 

"Go  away,"  cried  Antje. 

"I  won't.  Let  me  in,  please.  If  you  don't 
look  out,  Miss  Hunks  will  hear  you." 


196  THE    UPSTART 

Terrified  at  the  idea  of  being  subjected  to 
one  of  Miss  Sophronia's  cross-examinations, 
Antje  crept  from  her  bed  to  the  door  and  un- 
locked it.  Then,  without  waiting  for  the  girl 
to  enter,  she  rushed  back  to  the  bed  and  flung 
herself  upon  it.  Jack  slipped  noiselessly  in, 
locked  the  door,  turned  down  the  light  and 
then  hesitated  for  a  moment  by  the  bedside. 

"Why,  Antje,  dear,  what  's  the  matter?" 
she  whispered.  The  little  Dutch  girl  raised 
her  pathetic  face,  that  was  like  a  wind-swept, 
rain-streaked,  country  rose.  Before  her  stood 
Miss  Jack,  tall  and  white  and  graceful,— a 
high-bred  lily.  Into  Antje's  head  flashed  a 
sudden  hatred  of  all  that  she  stood  for.  Why 
should  Jack  Hahn  be  born  to  easy  enjoyment 
of  what  she,  herself,  had  only  tasted  and  was 
now  to  lose? 

"I  hate  you!"  sobbed  Antje. 

"0,  Antje,"  cried  Miss  Jack,  throwing  her 
arms  about  the  poor  little  figure  on  the  bed, 
"Antje,  dear.  Do  tell  me  what  's  the  matter? 
Perhaps  I  can  help  you." 

Antje  made  no  answer,  trying  hard  to  stifle 
her  sobs.  Very  gently,  Jack  raised  her  from 


THE   UPSTART  197 

the  bed  and  rested  the  disheveled  golden  head 
on  her  own  shoulder. 

"There,  dear,  there,"  she  said  soothingly. 
" Cry  it  all  out." 

With  her  soft  hands  she  stroked  Antje's  yel- 
low hair.  For  a  moment  there  was  nothing 
said.  Then  suddenly  Antje  sat  straight  up. 
She  looked  Jack  in  the  eyes,  trying  hard  to 
control  herself.  But  the  effort  was  useless. 

"I  Ve  got  to  go  home  for  good  on  Saturday, 
Jack,"  sobbed  Antje,  presently,  when  their 
mingled  weeping  had  subsided.  "I  Ve  got  to 
go  home  and  give  it  all  up.  And  I  can't  go, 
Jack.  I  just  can't  go!" 

' '  What  's  happened,  dear  I ' '  asked  the  other. 
"There,  lie  down  and  let  me  undress  you? 
What  has  happened?" 

Instant  loyalty  to  her  family,  inborn,  inher- 
ited from  long  generations  of  proud  Dutch  an- 
cestors, came  to  the  girl's  aid  and  guided  her 
tongue. 

"0,  nothing  has  happened,"  she  answered, 
her  tears  stopping  as  suddenly  as  they  had  be- 
gun. "Mother  needs  me  at  home,  that  's  all, 
and  I  Ve  got  to  leave  school  on  Saturday." 


198  THE    UPSTART 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  only  for  a  little  while," 
said  Jack,  hopefully. 

"I  'm  afraid  not.  I  'm  afraid  this  is  the 
end." 

"O,  well,  dear,  you  '11  only  be  a  little  way 
from  Liberty.  You  '11  come  in  and  visit  me 
often  and  I  '11  drive  out  to  the  farm  every  day 
or  two." 

But  that  was  too  much !  That  brought  home 
to  her  too  vividly  what  life  on  the  farm  would 
mean,  with  all  its  petty  meannesses,  its  sordid, 
unnecessary  economies,  its  total  lack  of  books, 
pictures,  music,  all  that  had  filled  the  last  few 
months  with  light  and  sweetness. 

"I  can't  give  it  all  up,  Jack,"  she  cried,  her 
tears  coming  afresh.  "I  can't  go  back!" 

But  the  flow  of  tears  was  suddenly  inter- 
rupted by  a  double  knock  on  the  door  and 
by  the  monitory  voice  of  Miss  Sophronia 
Hunks. 

"Miss  Anders!"  called  Miss  Hunks.  Jack 
Hahn  hastened  to  open  the  door. 

"Young  ladies,  what  does  this  mean!"  asked 
Miss  Hunks  icily. 

"We  have  had  bad  news,"  answered  Jack. 
Antje  had  pulled  the  bed  clothes  up  about  her 


THE    UPSTART  199 

disheveled  head  at  the  entrance  of  the  dragon 
and  from  beneath  them  came  the  sound  of  half- 
suppressed  sobs. 

"It  must  be  bad  news,  indeed,  to  justify  such 
an  outbreak  of  unrestrained  emotion,"  said 
Miss  Hunks.  ' '  Nothing  could  be  worse  for  the 
nervous  system.  May  I  ask  what  is  the  nature 
of  the  disquieting  intelligence  you  have  re- 
ceived?" 

Miss  Hunks  crossed  her  arms  and  waited 
grimly  for  a  reply.  It  came  from  an  unex- 
pected source.  Anje  suddenly  sat  up,  her 
eyes  tearless. 

"Miss  Hunks,"  she  said,  in  tones  as  icy  as 
that  lady's  own,  "the  news  I  have  had  con- 
cerns only  myself!" 

"Miss  Anders,"  cried  the  indignant  princi- 
pal. "Do  not  add  an  exhibition  of  bad  tem- 
per to— 

"0,  you  need  n't  mind,"  interrupted  Antje, 
breaking  down  into  a  half  sob.  "I  'm  going 
to  leave  your  old  school  anyhow.  And  I  'm 
g-g-glad  of  it,  too ! ' ' 

"Miss  Hahn, "  said  Miss  Hunks  sternly, 
fearful  lest  this  rebellious  spirit  should  prove 
infectious,  "  go  to  your  room  at  once. ' ' 


200  THE  UPSTART 

Jack  started  to  obey.  Then  she  stopped  at 
the  bedside,  bent  over  and  kissed  Antje. 

"I  'm  awfully  sorry,  dear,  she  said.  "But 
don't  cry.  It  '11  all  come  out  right  somehow." 

At  the  door  she  stopped  again  and  ran 
quickly  back  to  the  bed. 

"Antje,  dear,"  she  whispered,  so  low  that 
not  even  the  keen  ears  of  Miss  Hunks  could 
hear,  "why  don't  you  write  to  Tom?" 

Then,  without  stopping  an  instant  for  a  re- 
sponse to  her  suggestion,  she  left  the  room. 


XIX 

THE  nomination  of  Pat  McCormick  for  the 
office  of  prosecuting  attorney  was  va- 
riously received.  As  the  Captain  had  predicted, 
it  was  pleasing  to  the  young  voters  of  the 
county  and,  particularly  to  those  of  the  village, 
most  of  whom  had  known  Pat  since  his  bare- 
footed boyhood.  A  score  of  young  men  volun- 
teered to  help  him  in  the  campaign,  and  among 
the  first  was  Tom  Hahn,  now  permanently 
established  in  his  father's  law-office. 

"We  '11  take  the  horse  and  phaeton,  Pat," 
he  said, ' '  and  visit  every  farm-house  in  Liberty 
County." 

But  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  nomina- 
tion did  not  throw  the  Republican  managers 
into  a  panic.  They  had  named  Tom  Martin, 
Henry  Wagner's  law-partner,  for  prosecuting 
attorney,  and  when  Wagner  heard  of  the  ac- 
tion of  the  Democratic  committee,  he  expressed 

his  contempt  for  that  body. 

201 


202  THE  UPSTAET 

"That  gives  you  a  cinch,  Tom,"  he  said  to 
his  partner.  "I  '11  take  a  few  cracks  at  young 
McCormick  in  the  Clarion  that  '11  make  Hig- 
gins  wish  he  had  n't." 

King  Anders  came  his  nearest  to  a  smile 
when  Wagner  told  him  the  news. 

"I  bet  you  he  don't  get  twenty  votes  in 
Monroe  township  yet,"  he  said  with  contemp- 
tuous amusement.  "What  for  the  Democrats 
do  such  a  trick,  anyhow?" 

1  i  It  was  Higgins '  doing.  He  was  paying  off 
his  old  debt." 

"Well,  if  Higgins  thinks  he  can  jam  that 
young  feller  down  my  throat,  I  '11  fool  him 
once.  He  's  getting  too  uppish  already.  He  'd 
better  stayed  over  in  Shantytown  where  h6  be- 
longs—the Upstart!" 

That  evening  Wagner  walked  down  to  his 
office  to  write  some  editorials  for  the  Clarion, 
to  which  he  lent  the  scintillations  of  his  vituper- 
ative pen  during  every  political  campaign.  He 
stopped  finally  with  a  few  lines. 

"I  '11  begin  with  an  easy  one,"  he  said  to 
himself  as  he  walked  over  to  the  Clarion  office. 

Next    evening    Chairman    Higgins    of    the 


THE  UPSTART  203 

Democratic  Committee  found  this  paragraph 
in  the  paper : 

"It  may  be  good  public  policy  to  nominate  for 
the  position  of  chief  administrator  of  the  criminal 
laws  a  man  who  numbers  among  his  immediate  rela- 
tives a  self-confessed  criminal,  but  we  doubt  if  the 
law-abiding  and  decent  citizens  of  Liberty  County 
will  look  at  it  in  that  light." 

"There,"  laughed  Higgins,  as  he  dropped 
the  paper  on  his  library  table,  "we  Ve  got  an 
issue  now.  I  was  afraid  they  'd  have  too  much 
sense. ' ' 

; '  What  's  the  matter,  John  1 ' '  asked  his  wife. 

"Nothing,  Annie,  only  young  Pat  McCor- 
mick  is  going  to  be  elected  prosecuting  attor- 
ney, that  's  all." 

Next  day  Higgins  waited  in  the  sitting-room 
after  dinner  until  he  saw  Williams  walking 
down  the  street.  Then  he  went  out  to  join  him, 
casually. 

In  addition  to  his  other  responsibilities  old 
Williams  held  the  office  of  Chairman  of  the 
Board  of  County  Commissioners.  Three 
months  before,  the  Board  had  appropriated 


204  THE  UPSTART 

ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  erection  of  a 
monument  in  the  court-house  square,  in  honor 
of  the  volunteer  soldiers  and  sailors  of  the 
country  who  lost  their  lives  in  the  rebellion. 
The  date  for  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  was 
only  a  week  off  and  the  program  for  the  exer- 
cises of  dedication,  which  were  intended  to 
make  the  patriotic  lesson  impressive,  was  not 
yet  completed. 

It  had  been  easy  to  decide  that  Father  Cal- 
lahan  of  the  Catholic  Church  should  make  the 
opening  prayer  and  that  the  Eeverend  Doctor 
Matlack  of  the  First  Presbyterian  should  pro- 
nounce the  benediction.  It  was  inevitable  that 
General  Bristow,  most  conspicuous  of  local 
veterans  and  commander  of  the  Grand  Army 
Post,  should  deliver  the  principal  oration.  But 
there  the  Board  stopped. 

At  its  first  meeting  to  consider  the  program, 
it  had  been  agreed  that  the  son  of  one  of  the 
dead  heroes  of  the  county  should  be  asked  to 
speak,  as  the  representative  of  the  younger 
generation.  Three  candidates  for  the  honor 
had  immediately  appeared  and  the  Board 
could  come  to  no  decision.  The  contest  had 


THE  UPSTART  205 

developed  great  bitterness.  Half  a  dozen 
meetings  to  decide  the  question  had  been  called 
and  each  ballot  showed  a  hard  and  fast  dead- 
lock, with  no  hope  of  a  break.  The  adherents 
of  the  several  candidates  would  not  yield  an 
inch. 

"Going  down  to  settle  the  monument  row?" 
asked  Higgins. 

"Yes,  we  've  got  to  settle  it  to-day,"  Wil- 
liams answered.  "The  corner-stone  is  laid 
next  Saturday." 

"Why  don't  you  try  a  compromise?" 

"We  '11  have  to,  I  guess.  The  trouble  is 
there  is  n't  anybody  we  can  compromise  on. 
I  've  suggested  a  dozen  names  and  each  time 
there  is  a  kick." 

1 '  Get  up  one  with  no  names  mentioned  at  all, 
then,"  suggested  Higgins. 

* '  How  can  we  do  that  1 ' ' 

"How  would  it  do  to  have  the  speech  made 
by  the  son  of  the  first  Liberty  volunteer  who 
was  killed  in  the  war?" 

' '  Hum-m, ' '  hesitated  old  man  Williams.  ' '  I 
wonder  whp  that  would  be?" 

"The  official  records  would  settle  that  for 


206  THE  UPSTART 

you,"  answered  Higgins.  "There  'd  be  no 
chance  for  an  argument.  That  's  the  beauty 
of  the  scheme. ' ' 

"I  guess  that  's  a  pretty  good  plan.  I  was 
thinking  of  something  like  that  myself." 

When  the  Board  met  Williams  laid  his  com- 
promise before  them. 

"But  who  was  the  first  volunteer  killed?" 
asked  half  a  dozen  commissioners  in  chorus. 

"I  don't  know,"  Williams  answered.  "I 
don't  believe  anybody  could  tell  off-hand. 
That  's  what  makes  it  a  good  compromise. 
The  idea  only  occurred  to  me  on  the  way  down 
town  and  I  Ve  had  no  chance  to  investigate,  if 
I  had  wanted  to." 

The  board  members  were  tired  of  the  con- 
troversy and  time  was  pressing.  The  sugges- 
tion of  President  Williams  was  put  in  the  form 
of  a  resolution  and  carried  unanimously. 

Within  twenty-four  hours  everybody  in 
Liberty  knew  that  Pat  McCormick  had  been 
chosen  to  speak  at  the  laying  of  the  corner- 
stone. The  peculiar  way  in  which  the  decision 
had  been  reached  was  the  subject  of  general 
comment.  Some  partisans  took  the  ground 


THE  UPSTART  207 

that  old  Williams,  as  Treasurer  of  the  Demo- 
cratic County  Committee,  had  played  a  sharp 
trick  on  his  colleagues  in  thus  securing  the 
selection  of  one  of  the  candidates  of  his  party. 
Lawyer  Wagner  gave  bitter  expression  to  this 
view  in  the  columns  of  the  Clarion. 

"Things  have  come  to  a  pretty  pass,"  he 
wrote,  "when,  by  a  disreputable  trick,  party 
politics  are  injected  into  what  was  intended  to 
be  an  impressive  ceremony  dedicated  to  the 
memory  of  our  dead  heroes.  The  trick  was  per- 
petrated by  the  treasurer  of  one  of  the  cam- 
paign committees  and  the  intended  beneficiary 
is  a  candidate  on  his  party  ticket.  If  this  candi- 
date were  other  than  he  is,  he  might  be  ex- 
pected to  decline  the  questionable  honor,  but 
in  a  man  of  his  antecedents  a  delicate  sense  of 
decency  can  hardly  be  expected.  It  will  remain 
for  the  voters  of  Liberty  County  to  properly 
rebuke  this  shameless  attempt  to  prostitute  a 
patriotic  occasion." 

"That  '11  stir  up  the  animals,"  John  Hig- 
gins  chuckled  as  he  read  it.  He  was  right. 
Old  man  Williams,  his  long  white  beard  wag- 
ging with  wrath,  strode  into  the  Clarion  office 


208  THE  UPSTART 

to  denounce  the  man  who  wrote  it  as  a  liar.  If 
he  had  known  the  choice  would  fall  on  Pat 
McCormick  he  would  not  have  made  the  sug- 
gestion, "But  now,  by  Goll!  I  '11  see  that 
Pat  's  the  speaker,  no  matter  what  happens ! ' ' 

General  Bristow  called  at  the  Clarion  office 
later  in  the  day.  He  was  a  leading  Republi- 
can and  held  the  federal  patronage  in  his 
hands.  The  editor  of  the  Clarion  listened  to 
him  with  respect.  He  had  prepared  a  com- 
munication which  he  would  like  published. 
The  editor  would  be  delighted.  General  Bris- 
tow handed  the  copy  to  him  and  he  looked  it 
over. 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  consistently  print 
this,"  the  editor  said,  as  he  looked  up  from 
the  letter  with  a  troubled  face. 

* '  Don 't  then  and  I  '11  take  the  stump  for  Pat 
McCormick,"  roared  the  angry  old  soldier. 

So  this  is  what  John  Higgins  read  in  the 
Clarion  the  next  day  with  many  chuckles  of 
joy: 

"In  accordance  with  its  policy  of  absolute  fair- 
ness, even  in  matters  of  party  politics,  the  Clarion 


THE  UPSTART  209 

takes  pleasure  in  printing  the  following  communica- 
tion from  General  Bristow: 

"I  read  in  the  Clarion  last  evening  an  attack  on 
the  action  of  the  County  Board  in  selecting  Patrick 
McCormick  as  one  of  the  speakers  at  the  laying 
of  the  corner-stone  of  the  Soldiers'  Monument. 

"The  public  is  familiar  with  the  original  contro- 
versy which  followed  the  attempt  of  the  Board  to 
name  a  representative  of  the  Sons  of  Veterans.  In 
my  opinion  the  Board  acted  with  wisdom  in  decid- 
ing to  bestow  the  honor  on  the  son  of  the  first  of 
Liberty 's  volunteers  who  lost  his  life  in  the  rebellion. 
When  it  so  decided,  I  am  informed  that  not  one 
member  knew  on  whom  the  honor  would  fall.  That 
it  did  fall  to  Pat  McCormick  is  no  fault  of  his  and, 
though  I  do  not  agree  with  him  in  politics,  I  con- 
sider the  honor  worthily  bestowed.  The  fact  that  he 
also  happens  to  be  a  candidate  for  office  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  case. 

"I  venture  to  say  that  the  veterans  of  the  late 
war  will  be  inclined  to  resent  any  further  attacks, 
veiled  or  otherwise,  on  a  man  who,  whatever  his 
private  faults,  was  one  of  the  bravest  soldiers  in  the 
brigade  which  I  had  the  honor  to  command.  Cer- 
tainly an  attempt  to  cast  insinuations  on  the  son, 
because  of  the  sins  of  the  father,  is  cowardly  and 
uncalled  for.  If  politics  have  been  injected  into  the 

14 


210  THE  UPSTART 

proceedings  of  Saturday,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that 
the  Clarion,  rather  than  the  County  Board,  is  respon- 
sible for  it. 

"CHARLES  BRISTOW." 

"Wagner  's  winning  our  fight  for  us,"  said 
'Chairman  Higgins  when  he  read  General  Bris- 
tow's  letter. 

The  evening  after  he  received  formal  notifi- 
cation of  his  selection,  Pat  went  over  to  the 
island  to  tell  the  news  to  the  Captain. 

"Wall,  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "now  you 
got  a  chance  to  show  'em  what  a  shanty  Irish- 
man can  do." 

They  sat  for  an  hour  on  the  bridge,  looking 
down  the  river,  while  the  Captain  smoked  and 
fought  over  some  of  the  battles  in  which  he 
had  taken  part. 

"In  my  company,  Fust  Mate,"  the  old  man 
said,  "there  were  twenty  Irishmen,  as  many 
Germans,  half  a  dozen  Swedes,  a  little  bunch 
of  Hollanders,  and  a  couple  of  English,  to  say 
nothing  of  us  Yankees.  In  camp  and  on  the 
march  we  was  always  fighting  among  ourselves. 
Each  of  us  stuck  up  for  his  country  as  the  best 


THE  UPSTART  211 

in  the  world  to  be  born  in.  Give  us  two  weeks 
without  a  battle  and  half  the  boys  would  be 
nursing  black  eyes.  But,  when  the  bugle 
sounded,  and  the  captain  yelled,  "Charge! 
Double  quick ! ' '  there  was  only  one  nationality 
in  the  whole  company— all  sons  of  the  one 
flag.  We  fought  then  to  see  which  could  git 
to  the  enemy's  line  fust.  There  was  plenty  of 
countries  the  best  to  be  born  in,  Fust  Mate, 
but  only  one  among  'em  all  worth  dying  for ! ' ' 

Pat's  Celtic  imagination  was  quick  to  catch 
fire  at  the  suggestion,  which  he  made  the  text 
for  his  speech.  He  worked  on  it  almost  con- 
stantly, day^nd  night,  and  had  little  time  to 
think  of  Antje  or  anything  but  the 'work  on 
hand.  On  Friday  night  he  rehearsed  the  speech 
at  the  rectory,  with  Mr.  Burton  and  his  wife 
as  an  enthusiastic,  but  critical,  audience. 

Saturday  came,  clear  and  beautiful,  with  the 
breath  of  the  budding  summer  in  the  air.  The 
trees  were  burgeoning  in  fresh  and  tender 
green.  Early  in  the  morning  the  farmers  be- 
gan to  come  in  from  all  the  surrounding  coun- 
try. Most  of  them  had  either  served  in  the 
Union  armies  or  had  sent  their  sons  to  fill  a 


212  THE  UPSTART 

place  in  the  ranks.  This  was  their  monument. 
Their  big  wagons  fringed  the  streets  for  blocks 
and  their  families  gathered  in  thousands  on 
the  grass  of  the  court-house  square  and  over- 
flowed on  the  sidewalks  and  up  the  stairways 
in  every  direction.  In  the  crowds  were  hun- 
dreds in  blue  uniforms  and  scores  who  limped 
on  crutches  or  carried  an  empty  sleeve. 

When  Father  Callahan  rose  to  offer  the 
opening  prayer  the  square  and  all  the  streets 
about  it  were  one  black,  swaying  mass  of  peo- 
ple. The  Liberty  Cornet  band  followed,  play- 
ing "The  Star  Spangled  Banner"  and  men 
broke  into  the  wild  yells  and  cheers  they  had 
learned  on  triumphant  battle-fields.  The  fierce 
fervor  of  the  fight  still  sounded  in  their  hoarse, 
high-pitched  voices.  General  Bristow  spoke 
briefly  and  was  heard  by  few,  his  voice  tremb- 
ling with  the- intensity  of  his  emotions.  Then 
Pat  heard  his  own  name  called  by  Williams, 
who  was  presiding  over  the  exercises.  All  his 
courage  oozed  away  and  his  knees  shook  as  he 
walked  to  the  speaker's  stand  and  bowed  to 
the  great  crowd,  which  was  still  cheering  the 
last  speaker,  less  for  what  he  had  said  than  for 
what  he  was. 


THE  UPSTART  213 

The  people  looked  up  at  the  short,  youthful 
figure,  and  were  silent  for  a  moment.  There 
was  something  about  the  white  face,  with  its 
broad  mouth  and  hedge  of  red  hair  above, 
which  commanded  their  sympathy.  He  looked 
so  absurdly  unequal  to  the  situation. 

"Men  and  women  of  Liberty  County!" 

It  was  the  voice  which  held  them,  his  voice 
—the  one  great  gift  which  nature  had  be- 
stowed upon  him— deep,  ringing,  powerful, 
penetrating  without  the  slightest  effort  to  the 
farthest  limit  of  the  crowd. 

Farmers  living  far  from  town,  who  had 
started  to  leave  when  General  Bristow  sat 
down,  stopped  for  a  moment  to  listen.  A  half- 
surprised,  half-pleased,  smile  swept  over  the 
upturned  faces.  Mouths  opened  and  eyes 
rounded  and  the  smile  changed  to  a  look 
of  awed  intensity  as  Pat  went  on.  The 
first  sound  which  broke  in  upon  his  words  was 
a  deep  German  roar  of  ' l  Hoch !  Hoch ! "  as  he 
told  how  the  sons  of  the  fatherland  had  proved 
their  courage.  Then  followed  the  shrill  yells 
of  his  old  friends  of  Shantytown  as  the  tale  of 
Irish  valor  was  rehearsed. 

Presently  Pat  made  out  two  figures  in  the 


214  THE  UPSTART 

crowd.  One  of  them  was  that  of  his  Aunt 
Bridget,  mounted  on  top  of  a  dry-goods  box 
at  the  corner  and  waving  a  big  flag  frantically. 
Close  by,  he  saw  the  Captain,  his  mouth 
wide  open  and  hand  behind  ear.  To  these 
two,  Pat  talked  for  the  remainder  of  his  ten 
minutes. 

' '  For  the  honor  of  that  flag, ' '  he  concluded, 
"the  brave  men  of  a  dozen  nations  gave  their 
lives.  Born  under  imperial  banners,  they  died 
for  the  flag  that  set  them  free.  They  swore 
that  it  should  stand  forever  for  equal  rights 
and  equal  opportunities  for  all  men.  It  re- 
mains for  us— their  sons— to  see  that  their 
blood-sealed  oath  is  kept  inviolate.'* 

When  he  sat  down  there  was  at  first  a 
moment's  tense  silence.  Then  burst  a  great 
roar  of  voices,  and  a  wild  confusion  of  people, 
struggling  about  the  speaker's  stand,  throw- 
ing hats  into  the  air  and  cheering.  In  it  all, 
Pat  saw  first  only  his  old  aunt,  jumping  up 
and  down  on  her  box  like  a  rubber-doll  and 
uttering  screams  that  pierced  the  deeper  roar 
like  arrows.  Then  his  eye  caught  the  figure  of 
the  Captain,  fighting  his  way  to  the  front  like 
a  man  driven  by  devils. 


"Men  and  women  of  Liberty  County !" 


THE  UPSTART  215 

General  Bristow  came  over  and  shook  his 
hand. 

"I  congratulate  you,  sir,"  said  the  old  sol- 
dier. "I  am  proud  of  you." 

The  Captain,  his  coat  half-torn  from  his 
body,  came  next,  wringing  Pat's  hand  and  cry- 
ing, "You  showed  'em,  Fust  Mate!  You 
showed  'em!" 

Far  off  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  John 
Biggins,  turning  to  drive  away,  said  to  his 
wife,  "Annie,  that  was  the  best  political  speech 
I  ever  heard  in  my  life.  And  there  was  n't  a 
word  of  politics  in  it." 


XX 


ANTJE  came  back  from  the  seminary  de- 
~L\~  termined  to  face  the  conditions  of  life 
on  the  farm  without  flinching.  Least  of  all 
should  her  father  ever  see  in  her  any  indica- 
tion that  she  felt  herself  ill-treated.  And  at 
the  worst  she  knew  that  the  old  dead  monotony 
of  existence  could  never  return.  She  had  new 
resources— a  few  books,  a  few  friends,  and  a 
new  outlook  into  the  possibilities  of  life.  As 
a  blind  man  who  has  once  looked  out  on  the 
good  green  world,  flooded  with  golden  light, 
may  be  happier  for  the  memory  of  that  celes- 
tial vision,  so  she  treasured  the  recollection  of 
her  days  at  the  seminary  and  gave  thanks  for 
them.  Not  even  her  mother  ever  heard  a  word 
of  complaint.  Into  the  every-day  work  of  the 
farm  she  threw  herself  with  an  energy  and  an 
intelligence  which  first  surprised  King  Anders 
and  then  aroused  unpleasant  reflections.  Per- 
haps he  had  been  hard  and  unjust  to  the  girl. 

216 


THE  UPSTAET  217 

Instinctively  he  understood  her  better  than 
any  one  else,  and  in  the  depths  of  his  stubborn 
nature  there  lay  a  great  pride  in,  and  an  over- 
whelming love  for,  the  one  member  of  his  fam- 
ily who  had  inherited  his  own  strong  traits 
of  character. 

When  Jack  Hahn  drove  out  to  the  farm  once 
or  twice  during  the  spring  vacation,  he  wel- 
comed her,  in  secret,  as  cordially  as  Antje  her- 
self, and  at  the  coming  of  big  Tom  Hahn,  the 
old  King  smiled  grimly  as  he  recognized  a 
suitor  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter. 

"That  Hahn  girl  gets  pretty  thick  by  Antje 
already, ' '  he  said  to  his  wife.  ' '  I  think  maybe 
so  they  like  to  get  her  for  their  boy,  huh  1 ' ' 

"He  was  down  two  or  three  times  by  the 
seminary  to  see  her  yet,"  answered  the  old 
woman.  "And  in  Chicago  he  took  her  by  the 
theater.  He  is  a  good  boy,  not  so  f " 

The  King  was  not  present  at  the  laying  of 
the  corner-stone,  but  a  few  days  later  he  called 
at  the  office  of  Lawyer  Wagner  to  talk  it  over. 

"That  McCormick  feller  's  getting  to  be  a 
pretty  smart  one,  huh!"  he  said.  "They  say 
he  made  a  fine  speech  by  the  monument." 


218  THE  UPSTAKT 

' '  That  was  just  what  we  needed, ' '  answered 
Wagner.  "It  stirred  our  boys  all  up  and  now 
they  '11  go  to  work  in  earnest. ' ' 

"I  hear  he  comes  out  by  the  Silver  Creek 
School  pretty  soon  to  make  a  speech,"  the 
King  went  on.  ' '  I  should  n  't  wonder  when  he 
does  if  there  was  a  lively  time  yet. ' ' 

"What  's  going  to  happen?"  asked  Wagner, 
with  an  anticipatory  smile. 

"Oh,  maybe  so  noddings,"  said  Anders  with 
a  grin,  "but  some  of  those  boys  out  our  way 
are  pretty  wild  ones,  huh?" 

' '  Oh,  I  see, ' '  smiled  Wagner.  "  I  M  like  to  be 
on  hand  myself." 

Pat's  speech  at  the  Silver  Creek  school- 
house  came  late  in  the  campaign.  He  and  Tom 
Hahn  had  traveled  together  for  several  weeks, 
driving  out  into  the  country  in  the  morning, 
calling  at  the  various  farms  in  the  afternoon 
and  speaking  at  the  district  school-houses  in 
the  evening.  Always  the  best  of  friends,  there 
had  yet  grown  up  between  them  a  feeling  of 
aloofness,  almost  of  tension.  One  subject  they 
both  instinctively  avoided.  Now,  as  they 
drove  out  over  the  bridge  and  along  the  old, 


THE  UPSTART  219 

familiar  river  road,  they  were  both  strangely 
silent. 

"I  wonder  if  there  '11  be  a  big  crowd  to- 
night," Tom  asked  finally. 

"I  hope  so.  The  committee  promised  a  full 
house. ' ' 

"You  've  got  a  whole  lot  of  old  friends  out 
here,  have  n't  you?"  Tom  asked. 

"And  some  that  are  n't  so  friendly,"  Pat 
answered  smiling.  "I  don't  reckon  the  King 
and  his  boys  '11  turn  out  to  welcome  me." 

"Perhaps  Antje  '11  come." 

Pat  looked  at  his  comrade  sharply.  ' '  She  '11 
hardly  come  up  from  the  seminary  to  hear  me 
speak,"  he  said. 

"She  's  been  at  home  for  three  weeks. 
Did  n't  you  know?"  asked  Tom  in  surprise. 

"No,"  said  Pat.    "I  did  n't  know  it." 

The  old  white  horse  trotted  noiselessly  along 
the  dust-laden  road,  and  both  young  men 
lapsed  into  silence  again. 

Three  weeks  ago!  That  was  just  after  he 
had  seen  her  at  the  seminary,  Pat  remembered. 
Was  he  responsible  for  her  recall?  He  knew 
what  it  must  mean  to  her  to  give  it  up.  Surely 


220  THE  UPSTART 

-she  must  hate  him  now.  That  was  why  he  had 
not  heard  from  her.  He  had  never  touched 
her  life,  except  to  bring  sorrow  and  trouble 
into  it. 

"I  can't  bear  to  think  of  her  back  there  on 
the  farm,"  burst  out  Tom.  "It  's  a  dog's  life 
and  she  was  never  made  for  it." 

' '  Then  why  don 't  you  go  and  take  her  away 
from  it?"  That  was  what  Pat  should  have  said. 
That  would  have  been  generous  and  just  to 
both  Antje  and  his  friend  there  in  the  buggy 
with  him.  But  he  could  n't  say  it.  Instead, 
he  turned  his  eyes  away,  and  a  feeling  of 
fierce,  bitter,  jealous  rage  burned  within  him. 

The  horse  jogged  around  the  corner  and  the 
little  old  school-house,  standing  back  under  its 
great  elm,  came  into  sight. 

"Here  we  are,  Pat,"  said  Tom.  "It  looks 
like  a  big  crowd,  too. ' ' 

Over  at  the  Anders  farm  the  announcement 
that  Tom  Hahn  and  Pat  were  to  hold  a  meet- 
ing, caused  some  little  suppressed  excitement. 
The  King  did  not  speak  of  it,  but  Antje 
gathered  from  bits  of  talk  she  overheard  that 
the  boys  were  planning  mischief. 


THE  UPSTAET  221 

On  the  evening^  appointed  for  the  meeting, 
King  Anders,  coming  in  to  supper,  noticed 
the  girl's  absence,  and  asked,  "  Where  is  Antje, 
yet?" 

"She  went  to  spend  the  night  with  the 
Luders  girls,"  answered  her  mother. 

' '  Hah ! ' '  said  the  King.  * '  She  have  to  go  see 
that  Hahn  boy  yet." 

Farmers'  wagons  were  tied  to  the  fence  and 
scattered  through  the  grove  about  the  school- 
house,  as  Tom  and  Pat  McCormick  drove  up. 
Groups  of  people  were  standing  about  the 
door  and  a  score  of  men  were  perched  like 
crows  upon  the  top  rail  of  the  fence,  whittling, 
smoking  and  talking  about  the  crops.  As  the 
two  young  men  climbed  down  from  their 
buggy,  the  talk  ceased  and  all  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  them — shrewd,  critical  eyes. 

"Pretty  young-looking  cuss,"  said  one  old 
farmer.  "Yes,"  answered  another,  "but  he  's 
a  smart  one,  all  right.  You  ought  to  'ave 
heard  the  speech  he  made  at  the  corner-stone 
laying." 

The  chairman  of  the  township  committee 
came  out  to  receive  them  and  the  crowd  fol- 


THE  UPSTART 

lowed  back  into  the  school-house.  The  women 
and  children  filled  the  seats,  the  men  standing 
thick  along  the  walls,  sitting  in  the  open  win- 
dows and  massing  themselves  about  the  open 
doors  at  the  back.  The  two  little  kerosene 
lamps,  hanging  by  wires  from  the  ceiling,  filled 
the  shadowy  recesses  of  the  school-house  with 
a  dim  yellow  glow.  But  there  was  plenty  of 
light  for  both  Pat  and  Tom  Hahn  to  make  out, 
sitting  near  the  center  of  the  room  with  the 
Luders  girls,  the  slender  figure  of  Antje. 
There  was  nothing  about  her  to  distinguish 
her  from  the  others — nothing  bul  her  uncon- 
scious grace,  the  lure  of  her  yellow  hair  and 
the  tender,  fearless,  uncertain  spirit  which 
looked  out  through  her  dark  blue  eyes. 

As  Pat  looked  down  at  her,  his  heart  beat 
wildly.  For  him  there  was  no  one  else  present 
and  the  idea  of  making  a  political  speech  to 
Antje  seemed  impossible.  Other  words  were 
closer  to  his  lips,  and  the  old  school-house  was 
full  of  tender  memories.  Why  was  she  there 
to  make  them  real? 

The  girl  herself  could  not  have  answered. 
She  had  come  because  she  must.  Some  impulse 
had  driven  her. 


THE  UPSTAKT  223 

i 

She  looked  up  at  the  platform.  There  sat 
Tom,  tall  and  handsome.  He  was  smiling  at 
her  and  a  look  of  tenderness  shone  back  from 
her  eyes.  She  glanced  at  Pat  sitting  at  the 
back  of  the  platform,  with  his  chair  tilted  back, 
as  he  used  to  sit  when  she  went  to  school  to 
him.  His  lack  of  dignity  made  her  angry  and 
her  cheeks  went  red.  Not  once  did  he  glance 
in  her  direction. 

The  chairman  of  the  township  committee 
broke  in  upon  the  tumult  of  her  mind.  With 
one  hand  fumbling  at  his  watch-chain  and  the 
other  tightly  clenched  behind  his  back,  he 
stepped  to  the  front  of  the  platform  and 
cleared  his  throat  nervously. 

"Fellow  citizens,"  he  began.  "The  pres- 
ence of  so  many  here  to-night— in  spite  of  its 
being  the  busy  season — is  proof  that  the  voters 
of  Monroe  township  are  fully  alive  to  the  great 
importance  of  the  issues  of  this  campaign, 
which  we  shall  hear  discussed  this  evening  by 
one  of  our  most  eloquent  speakers.  I 
have  the  honor  of  introducing  to  you  the 
Democratic  candidate  for  prosecuting  attor- 
ney of  Liberty  County,  the  Honorable  Patrick 
McCormick. ' ' 


224  THE  UPSTART 

Pat  stepped  forward  to  the  front  of  the  plat- 
form and  faced  the  applause.  His  face  was 
red  and  he  was  furiously  angry  with  himself 
that  the  sight  of  the  girl  should  have  so  upset 
him.  His  sentinel  eyes  glanced  instantly  at 
her  face.  It  was  white  and  sober. 

The  moment  he  began  to  speak,  untoward 
things  happened.  A  length  fell  from  the  long 
stove-pipe  which  stretched  across  the  room, 
and  discharged  a  cloud  of  soot  into  the  up- 
turned faces  of  the  people.  Left  unsupported, 
the  rest  of  the  pipe  fell  also,  each  length,  as 
it  tipped,  pouring  its  burden  of  dirt  over  the 
room. 

The  place  was  thrown  into  instant  and  utter 
confusion.  Women  screamed,  children  climbed 
on  top  of  the  desks,  people  in  the  front  seats, 
half-choked  with  soot,  tried  to  force  their  way 
to  the  windows,  gasping  for  air.  Some  of  the 
men  at  the  rear  had  rushed  out  of  the  house. 
Others  were  laughing  at  the  panic. 

Instantly  the  thought  of  treachery  came  into 
Pat's  mind. 

"Wait!"  he  called  from  the  platform. 
"Don't  let  a  lot  of  mischief-makers  break  up 
our  meeting.  There  's  no  danger ! ' ' 


THE  UPSTART  225 

At  the  fall  of  the  pipe,  Antje  Anders  had 
sprung  to  her  feet.  She  glanced  from  side  to 
side  through  the  open  windows. 

Then,  as  Pat  spoke,  there  came  fresh  trouble. 
Through  each  of  the  windows  a  big,  gray  hor- 
nets' nest,  filled  with  furiously  buzzing  insects, 
was  hurled  into  the  confused  crowd.  Instantly 
the  confusion  became  wild  panic.  There  were 
screams  of  pain  from  the  women  and  children 
and  execrations  from  the  men,  as  the  people 
climbed  through  the  windows  and  fought  for 
exit  at  the  door. 

Glancing  to  the  right  as  the  hornets'  nest 
was  thrown  in,  Antje  recognized  in  the  dim 
light  the  face  of  her  brother,  Klaas.  The  signt 
filled  her  with  a  sudden  fury.  She  looked  up 
at  the  platform,  where  Pat,  pale  and  calm,  still 
stood,  vainly  trying  to  stop  the  riot,  and  her 
heart  went  out  to  him. 

And  then  in  an  instant  she  knew.  It  was 
Pat  McCormick  she  loved.  She  would  stand 
with  him  against  even  her  own  people.  It 
came  to  her  with  the  certainty  of  fate  that  she 
had  always  loved  him.  Doubts,  questionings, 
were  over.  The  instant  need  was  to  help  him 
thwart  the  t)lot  of  her  own  brothers.  In  the 

15 


226  THE  UPSTART 

newness  of  the  realization  of  her  love  for  him, 
it  was  a  blessed  opportunity.  So  she  waited 
for  him  in  the  shadows,  just  outside  the 
school-house  door. 

Pat,  Tom  Hahn  and  the  Chairman  were  the 
last  to  leave  the  school-house.  As  he  hur- 
ried through  the  door,  Pat  heard  a  girl 's  voice 
calling  to  him  softly. 

"Pat,"  whispered  Antje,  "don't  let  them 
beat  you  that  way.  Hold  a  meeting  out  here — 
in  the  open!" 

It  came  to  him  like  an  inspiration.  He 
Hashed  one  grateful,  adoring  look  upon  her, 
then  turned  and  sprang  to  the  top  of  the  school- 
house  steps. 

' '  Friends ! "  he  cried  in  his  great  voice.  * '  We 
will  hold  our  meeting  in  the  open  air.  Wait 
a  moment  and  we  will  have  a  fire  built.  It 
takes  more  than  the  sting  of  a  yellow-jacket 
to  break  up  a  Democratic  rally." 

Tom  Hahn  and  some  of  the  younger  men 
gathered  a  big  pile  of  dry  wood  and  presently, 
by  the  red  light  of  the  blazing  fire,  Pat  went 
on  to  deliver  what  Tom  declared  was  his  best 
speech  of  the  whole  campaign.  Small  wonder ! 


THE  UPSTART  227 

For  from  a  pair  of  dark  blue  eyes,  not  ten  feet 
away— eyes  that  sparkled  with  enthusiasm  and 
excitement— there  flashed  to  him  constantly  re- 
newed and  increased  inspiration. 

When  the  speech  was  over,  while  the  hearty 
country  cheers  were  still  sounding,  Pat  and 
Tom  Hahn  stepped  up  at  the  same  moment  to 
speak  to  Antje.  And  then  happened  what  to 
Pat  was  a  thing  not  to  be  understood.  It  was 
for  Tom  Hahn  that  she  had  the  first  smile  of 
welcome  and  a  lingering  hand-clasp.  Tom 
leaned  over  and  whispered  to  her.  She  shook 
her  head,  smiling  no  longer,  while  Pat  stood 
by,  raging  inwardly. 

Was  this  the  girl  whose  excited  whisper  had 
inspired  the  meeting  in  the  open  air?  Why 
had  her  warmth  so  suddenly  cooled?  Or  had 
he  been  dreaming? 

"I  'm  so  sorry,  Pat— about  to-night,"  she 
said. 

"Antje,"  he  asked  huskily,  "why  on  earth 
have  n't  you  written  a  fellow?" 

"I  Ve  been  so  busy  since  I  came  home, ' '  she 
began,  "and  you  Ve  had  a  campaign  on  your 
hands.  I  did  n 't  want  to—  " 


228  THE  UPSTART 

"Oh,  you  girls!"  the  voice  of  old  man  Lu- 
ders  broke  in.  ' '  Hurry  up  yet.  You  want  me 
to  stay  up  all  night?" 

Pat  and  Tom  Hahn  got  into  the  buggy  and 
drove  away  in  mutual  silence. 

"Mr.  Luders,"  said  Antje,  as  he  turned  his 
team,  "I  wish  you  'd  let  me  out  at  home. 
There  's  something  I  must  attend  to  to-night. ' ' 


XXI 

WHEN  Antje  opened  the  kitchen  door,  her 
father  looked  up  at  her  in  surprise.  He 
was  sitting  in  his  big  rocking-chair  by  the  stove. 
Klaas  was  perched  on  the  top  of  the  kitchen 
table,  his  long  legs  almost  touching  the  floor; 
while  the  rest  of  the  boys  formed  an  appre- 
ciative audience  to  the  story  Klaas  was  telling. 
Antje  had  heard  the  sound  of  boisterous 
laughter  as  she  came  up  the  lane  and  she  had 
interrupted  Klaas  in  the  midst  of  his  story  as 
she  opened  the  door. 

She  swept  an  angry  glance  over  the  seven 
men — giants,  every  one,  huge  and  black,  with 
malicious  smiles  still  hovering  on  their  faces. 
Her  cheeks  were  red  and  little  points  of  flame 
glittered  in  her  blue  eyes. 

The  men  looked  at  her,  waiting  for  her  to 
speak  as  she  faced  them,  with  her  back  against 
the  kitchen  door. 

"Klaas!"  she  cried,  pointing  at  her  eldest 

229 


230  THE  UPSTART 

brother  with  a  trembling  forefinger.  "Yon 
are  a  big  coward !  I  saw  you  throw  that  hor- 
nets'  nest  into  the  school-house— right  in 
among  the  women  and  children ! ' ' 

The  big  fellow  looked  up  at  her  and  laughed, 
a  heavy,  insolent,  contemptuous  laugh. 

"Tom  Hahn  got  stung,  huh!"    he  said. 

"You  're  a  sneak,"  she  went  on,  pricked  by 
his  contempt.  "Creeping  around  in  the  dark 
like  a  thief !  You  ought  to  go  to  jail  for  what 
you  did  to-night!" 

"Aw!  What  I  care  what  you  say!" 
growled  Klaas,  getting  to  his  feet.  The  other 
boys  laughed  uneasily. 

"  I  'm  ashamed  of  you  all, ' '  she  ended,  break- 
ing down  in  true  womanly  fashion,  once  her 
defiance  had  been  uttered. 

Up  to  this  point  the  old  King  had  said 
nothing.  He  had  even  taken  a  certain  fierce 
pleasure  in  seeing  his  daughter  display  the 
dauntless  spirit  which  she,  among  all  his  chil- 
dren, had  inherited.  He  had  smiled  as  he  lis- 
tened to  her  hot  denunciation  of  her  huge 
brother.  But  now  Antje  was  crying;  and  her 
mother,  roused  from  sleep,  was  standing  in  the 
door  of  her  bedroom,  calling  to  her  daughter : 


THE  UPSTART  231 

11  Go  by  bed,"  he  ordered.  "Go  by  bed, 
you  all.  We  see  about  this  yet  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

Half  an  hour  later,  while  Antje  lay  sobbing 
in  her  bed,  her  old  mother  crept  softly  into  the 
room  and  sat  down  beside  her.  Her  gnarled 
hand  lay  upon  the  girl's  braided  hair.  Strok- 
ing it  tenderly,  she  whispered:  " Antje,  tell  me 
what  is  the  matter,  eh  ? " 

Brokenly  the  girl  told  the  story  of  the  night's 
happenings. 

"I  'm  sure  father  knew  all  about  it,  too," 
she  added.  ''It  was  such  a  cowardly  thing  to 
do.  That  's  why  everybody  hates  father  and 
hates  us  all." 

' '  Antje, ' '  said  the  old  woman,  with  something 
like  awe  in  her  voice,  "your  father  owns  near 
four  thousand  acres  of  land.  He  is  a  very  rich 
man,  yet." 

' '  That  makes  it  all  the  worse,  mother.  Why 
should  he  want  to  fight  a  poor  boy  like  Pat 
McCormick— and  fight  him  in  the  dark,  too, 
like  a  sneak?" 

"Antje,  his  father  burned  the  tannery  and 
Ander  lost  twelve  thousand  dollars." 

"That  was  n't  Pat's  fault.     He  is  n't  to 


232  THE  UPSTAET 

blame  for  what  his  father  did.  It  is  n't  fair 
to  fight  him  for  that  reason!" 

"Antje,  liebchen,"  said  the  old  woman, 
throwing  a  protecting  arm  about  the  girl's 
shoulders,  "don't  cry.  Why  do  you  care  so 
much?" 

"0,  mother,  don't  you  know?  Can't  you 
seel  It  's  because  I  love  him." 

"0,  Antje!"  cried  the  old  woman,  horror- 
stricken.  "Antje!  Love  him!  That  will  kill 
your  father  yet!  Wait,  Antje!  Wait  for 
God's  sake!" 

"I  can't  help  it  mother.  I  tried  hard,  but 
I  can't  help  it!" 

"I  don't  know  what  becomes  of  us  yet," 
wailed  the  old  woman  under  her  breath. 
"When  your  father  knows  that,  I  believe  he 
Mils  you  dead." 

NEXT  morning  the  King  sent  the  boys  early  to 
work  in  the  fields.  Then,  after  breakfast,  he 
said  to  his  daughter,  speaking  very  kindly: 
"Come  with  me  by  the  garden  a  little, 
Antje." 
The  old  man  walked  ahead  into  the  garden. 


THE  UPSTART  233 

He  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  was  smoking 
a  long  pipe,  with  a  painted  china  bowl.  As 
Antje,  following,  heard  the  gate  click  behind 
her,  she  was  reminded  of  another  scene  in  that 
same  prim  Dutch  garden  and  she  braced  her- 
self to  face  another  violent  outbreak  of  anger. 
But  her  father's  manner  was  calm  and  half 
jocular.  He  sat  down  on  an  oak  stump  near 
the  gate,  took  a  long  pull  at  his  pipe  and 
searched  her  flushed  face  with  his  keen  gray 
eyes. 

"Antje,"  he  said,  finally — his  voice  was  al- 
most tender — "your  mother  cried  about  you 
all  night.  She  waked  me  up  crying." 

"I  'm  sorry,  father." 

"She  would  not  tell  me  what  was  the  mat- 
ter by  her.  Blit  I  'm  not  a  fool  yet.  I  guess 
I  understand  it  already,  huh?" 

The  girl  saw  a  smile  on  her  father 's  face  and 
looked  down  in  confusion,  saying  nothing. 

"You  was  mad  by  those  boys'  tricks  last 
night,  not  so?"  There  was  amused  admira- 
tion in  his  voice.  "You  must  not  take  it  so 
serious.  But,  yes,  I  know  why  you  do  not  like 
it  when  they  laugh  at  him,  huh?" 


234  THE  UPSTART 

He  said  it  with  a  kindly  chuckle  and  the  girl, 
astounded,  kept  her  eyes  on  the  ground. 

"Antje,"  the  old  man  went  on,  "you  think 
some  about  getting  married,  not  so?  I  guess, 
maybe  so,  we  fix  that  all  right,  huh  I  What 
you  say?" 

The  girl  could  not  speak.  Evidently  the  old 
mother  had  given  him  some  hint  of  the  mid- 
night confession.  But  why  this  marvelous 
change  in  her  father  1  Instead  of  fierce  threats 
and  terrible  refusal,  he  was  sitting  there,  smil- 
ing his  approval. 

"You  say  noddings,  huh?  But  you  don't 
need  to.  When  a  girl  gets  red  like  that  and  looks 
down  and  can't  talk  yet,  she  don't  need  to  say 
noddings.  Antje,  I  guess  you  like  that  feller 
pretty  much,  already,  huh?" 

"Yes,  father,"  she  answered,  looking  up  at 
him,  prepared  now  to  believe  in  any  miracle. 

"You  been  a  good  girl  by  me,  Antje,"  the 
old  man  went  on,  his  eyes  fondly  caressing  her. 
"When  I  was  sick  that  time  you  took  care  of 
me  fine.  I  guess  maybe  so  when  you  get  mar- 
ried I  give  you  five  hundred  acres  of  land. 
You  sure  you  got  the  right  feller  this  time, 
huh?" 


THE  UPSTART  235 

"Yes,  father,  I  'm  sure."  They  were  smil- 
ing at  each  other  now.  King  Anders  was  al- 
most playful.  He  took  three  or  four  short 
pulls  at  his  pipe  and  chuckled  hoarsely. 

1 1 1  guess  any  of  those  town  fellers  been  glad 
when  they  get  Anders'  girl  for  his  woman, 
not  so?  Maybe  so  you  better  look  around 
some  more ! ' ' 

The  girl  smiled  back  at  him  and  shook  her 
head.  This  was  a  father  she  had  never  known 
before. 

"I  don't  care  about  the  land,  father,  if  only 
you  won't  be  angry  with  me,"  she  said. 

"You  better  take  him.  Five  hundred  acres 
is  a  good  deal  some  land.  If  you  're  sure  about 
the  feller,  huh?" 

"I  'm  sure,  father,"  she  said,  with  a  look 
on  her  face  that  was  like  a  vision  of  the  prom- 
ised land. 

"I  guess  he  's  a  pretty  good  feller— for  a 
lawyer.  I  go  in  town  to-morrow  and  fix  him 
up,  huh?" 

"0,  no,  please  don't  do  that,"  pleaded  the 
girl,  all  her  maiden  modesty  behind  the  prayer. 
* '  I  would  n  't  have  you  say  anything  to  him  for 
the  world." 


236  THE  UPSTART 

"I  won't  say  noddings  to  him  yet,"  an- 
swered the  old  King,  with  a  slow,  cunning 
smile.  "  I  go  me  to  see  his  father. ' ' 

"His  father?"  cried  Antje,  as  the  gulf 
opened  beneath  her  feet.  "His  father?" 

"Sure,"  answered  the  old  man,  still  with 
that  shrewd  smile  on  his  face.  "  I  go  me  to  see 
Judge  Hahn  to-morrow  morning  when  I  go 
in  with  the  hogs  yet." 

Antje  fell  on  her  knees  before  her  father, 
her  hands  stretched  out  to  him  in  hopeless  ap- 
peal. So  suddenly,  so  cruelly,  the  blow  had 
struck  that  she  had  hardly  breath  to  speak. 

"But  it  is  n't  Tom  Hahn,  father,"  she  cried 
in  a  piteous  voice,  twisting  her  hands  together 
in  impotent  agony.  "It  is  n't  Tom  Hahn!  I 
don't  love  Tom  Hahn!" 

Bang  Anders'  lower  lip  dropped  and  his 
face  went  white.  Then  the  blood  swept  back 
in  a  flood  and  made  it  crimson. 

"Huh?  Huh?"  he  stammered,  groping  un- 
willingly for  the  truth,  his  eyes  staring. 
"What  you  say?" 

As  he  spoke,  he  rose  from  the  stump  and 
stood,  towering  above  her. 


THE  UPSTART  237 

"What  you  say?"  he  repeated,  rasping  out 
his  words,  as  though  it  were  hard  to  force  them 
through  his  lips.  For  an  instant  Antje  hesi- 
tated. Then,  with  a  courage  greater  than  his 
own,  she  looked  the  old  man  squarely  in  the 
eyes. 

1  'Father,"  she  said,  "I  can't  help  it.  I  love 
Pat  McCormick." 

All  the  muscles  in  King  Anders'  body  tight- 
ened convulsively.  He  raised  his  clenched 
right  fist  above  his  head.  Unnoticed,  the  china 
bowl  of  his  pipe  was  squeezed  into  fragments, 
which  cut  the  flesh  of  his  hand  so  that  the 
blood  dripped  down  on  his  daughter's  yellow 
hair. 

"You  tell  me  that  so  to  my  face!"  he  hissed. 
"By  Gott!  When  you  ever  speak  to  that  man 
in  your  life,  I  kill  him  dead ! ' ' 

Then,  without  further  word,  he  turned  and 
tottered  to  the  gate  and  up  the  lane  towards 
the  house. 


XXII 

FOR  ten  minutes  after  they  had  started  on 
the  drive  back  to  Liberty,  Pat  and  Tom 
Hahn  discussed  the  attempt  of  the  Anders 
gang  to  break  up  their  meeting.  Then  they 
suddenly  fell  into  an  embarrassed  silence. 
They  were  both  struggling  with  the  same  prob- 
lem. Over  them  both  fell  the  shadow  of  their 
love  for  the  same  girl.  Each  felt  himself  a 
traitor  to  his  friendship  for  the  other.  Each 
was  bitterly  jealous  of  the  other;  and  shame 
that  this  feeling  should  exist  kept  both  of  them 
silent.  It  was  a  relief  when  the  old  horse 
stopped  at  the  McCormick's  cottage  and  Pat, 
getting  out,  bade  Tom  Hahn  a  constrained 
good-night. 

Next  morning,  early,  King  Anders  stalked 
into  the  office  of  Lawyer  Wagner. 

"How  goes  the  election  yet?"  he  asked. 

'  *  0,  young  McCormick  '11  be  beat  all  right, ' ' 
Wagner  answered.  ' '  He  may  run  ahead  of  his 

238 


THE  UPSTART  239 

ticket,  though.  There  's  no  denying  he  's  made 
a  hot  campaign." 

4 'Ahead  of  his  ticket!"  growled  the  old 
King.  ' '  Damn  him !  I  want  him  wiped  clean 
off  the  slate !  I  bet  you  I  got  Monroe  township 
fixed  already." 

"Yes,  but  it  'd  take  a  lot  of  money  to  fix 
the  whole  county  the  same  way, ' '  said  Wagner. 

* '  How  much  it  cost,  huh  1 ' ' 

1 '  Well, ' '  answered  Wagner  with  assumed  in- 
difference, "I  calculate  that  about  five  thou- 
sand dollars  would  put  Pat  McCormick  where 
the  lilies  won't  bloom  again." 

"I  get  him, "  said  the  King  sullenly.  He  got 
up  and  went  over  to  the  bank.  He  came  back 
presently  and  laid  the  money  on  the  table  be- 
fore Wagner,  who  took  it  greedily. 

"You  're  sure  this  beats  him,  huh?"  asked 
the  old  man  suspiciously. 

"Dead  certain.  Tom  Martin  's  as  good  as 
elected  this  minute.  Wait  till  I  write  you  a 
receipt  for  this." 

Her  father  spoke  never  a  word  to  Antje  after 
he  left  her  in  the  garden.  Orders  for  work  to 
keep  her  busy  each  day  were  delivered  through 


240  THE  UPSTART 

her  mother.  Otherwise  the  King  ignored  her 
completely.  Her  great  brothers  followed  their 
father's  example,  except  that  they  added  a 
touch  of  cruelty  to  the  treatment  by  occasional 
indirect  and  indelicate  taunts.  Often  she  had 
to  clench  her  hands,  until  the  nails  bit  into  the 
tender  flesh,  to  keep  from  answering  them 
hotly.  But  it  was  the  attitude  of  her  old 
mother  which  hurt  the  most.  Always  the  old 
woman  had  been  her  confidant  and  champion, 
who  understood  her  intuitively  and  whose  love 
was  a  sure  refuge  in  time  of  trouble.  But  now 
the  time  had  come  when  she  could  go  no  fur- 
ther in  opposition  to  the  will  of  her  husband. 
Open  defiance  to  the  old  King  and  absolute 
mutiny  against  his  authority  were  as  far  be- 
yond her  sympathy  as  her  imagination.  She 
seemed  hardly  to  look  upon  her  daughter  as 
any  longer  a  member  of  the  family. 

When  Antje  first  crept  back  from  the  gar- 
den and  climbed  the  narrow,  crooked  stairs 
which  led  to  her  little  bedroom,  she  found  the 
closet,  where  all  her  pretty  new  clothes  had 
been  hanging,  open  and  empty.  Her  trunk, 
which  held  the  rest  of  her  treasures,  was  also 
gone. 


THE  UPSTART  241 

"Mother,"  she  cried,  running  down  to  the 
kitchen,  "what  has  become  of  all  my  things!" 

"Your  father  has  taken  them,"  the  old 
woman  answered,  with  averted  face,  and  went 
on  about  her  work  without  a  word  of  sym- 
pathy. 

Cut  off  thus  from  her  own  family,  Antje  per- 
ceived that  she  was  under  a  kind  of  surveil- 
lance. Her  father  had  made  it  impossible  for 
her  to  leave  the  farm,  even  if  she  had  wished 
to  do  so.  She  was  a  virtual  prisoner.  And  in 
the  midst  of  all  her  troubles,  she  was  tor- 
mented by  one  terrible  thought  that  made  her 
present  situation  seem  pleasant  by  contrast. 

Suppose  Pat  McCormick  should  attempt  to 
see  her?  With  her  own  fresh  consciousness 
of  complete  love  for  him  filling  her  nature,  it 
seemed  to  her,  somehow,  certain  that  he  would 
come — that  he  must  come — that  across  the 
six  miles  which  separated  them,  her  yearning 
love  would  cry  out  and  that  it  would  be  heard. 
But  with  the  awful  threat  which  her  father 
had  made  in  the  garden  hanging  like  a  men- 
acing sword  between  them,  she  felt,  even  more 
strongly,  that  for  her  to  permit  the  possibility 
would  be  to  "make  herself  an  accomplice  to 

16 


242  THE  UPSTART 

murder.  For  she  did  not  doubt  that  King 
Anders  would  be  quite  equal  to  making  good 
his  oath.  Above  all,  it  would  endanger  the 
life  of  the  man  she  loved,  which  was  to  be 
rather  guarded  from  all  harm  as  the  dearest 
of  treasures. 

So  she  sat  down  in  her  little  room  under  the 
roof  that  night  with  a  great  task  before  her. 
In  her  slender  brown  hands  lay  the  destinies 
of  three  strong  men. 

First  of  all  she  must,  in  decent  fairness, 
write  to  Tom  Hahn  and  tell  him  that  she  did 
not  love  him.  How  strange  it  was !  Yesterday, 
altogether  uncertain;  to-day,  so  sure!  She 
could  not  understand  or  explain  herself  or  her 
decision.  She  but  knew,  with  a  blessed  cer- 
tainty that  left  no  place  for  questioning. 

It  was  a  hard  letter  to  write.  She  had 
known  Tom  Hahn  so  intimately ;  she  owed  him 
so  much ;  she  still  felt  so  tenderly  towards  him. 
Worst  of  all,  she  might  not  give  him  her  rea- 
son; for  no  slightest  suspicion  of  the  truth 
must  reach  Pat  McCormick.  When  it  was  fin- 
ished, she  was  crying.  It  was  hard  to  deliber- 
ately cut  one's  self  off  from  the  only  way  of 
hope  which  lay  open.  But  it  had  to  be  done. 


THE  UPSTART  243 

There  remained  the  letter  to  Pat  McCor- 
mick.  As  she  drew  the  paper  towards  her,  she 
blushed  divinely,  as  if  at  the  very  thought  of  all 
the  love  which  filled  her.  For  the  moment  she 
forgot  the  facts.  On  her  face  came  a  smile 
in  which  pride  and  tenderness  were  mingled 
with  something  wistful  and  altogether  appeal- 
ing. Then  suddenly  she  realized  again,  as  if 
for  the  first  time,  that  she  had  come  into  her 
love  only  to  renounce  it.  The  smile  went;  the 
face  grew  white,  with  wide,  staring  eyes;  the 
corners  of  the  mouth  drooped  and  the  lower 
lip  trembled,  so  that  any  man  seeing  it  must 
have  felt  his  heart  torn  from  him  by  the  pitiful 
picture  of  her  uncomforted  distress. 

She  must  tell  Pat  McCormick  that  he  must 
not  come  to  take  what  she  would  have  gloried 
to  give  him.  She  must  tell  him  bluntly,  with 
cold  dissimulation,  leaving  him  to  think  him- 
self  uncared  for  and  cast  off,  for  should  he 
catch  the  faintest,  dimmest  hint  of  the  truth 
between  the  lines,  she  knew  that  he  would  come 
to  her  against  all  urging  to  the  contrary. 

DEAR  MR.  MCCORMICK  : 

It  is  n't  an  easy  thing  to  write,  but  I  can't  put 
it  off  any  longer.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  and  you 


244  THE  UPSTAKT 

must  not,  under  any  circumstances,  try  to  see  me 
again.  It  would  only  bring  fresh  trouble  and  sor- 
row upon  me.  You  know,  I  suppose,  what  followed 
your  visit  to  the  seminary.  If  you  have  the  least 
regard  for  me,  you  will  respect  my  wish  and  not 
make  bad  matters  any  worse.  Please  take  this  as 
final. 

Your  friend, 

ANTJE  ANDERS. 

Don't  try  to  see  me  unless  you  want  to  make  me 
miserable  for  life. 

She  had  no  stamps  and  no  chance  to  mail  her 
letters,  but  she  carried  them  to  one  of  the 
hired  men— the  same  who  had  taken  her  note 
to  Pat,  after  her  father 's  seizure  in  the  garden 
— and  asked  him,  in  confusion,  to  attend  to  it 
for  her. 

"I  will  that,"  answered  the  man  with  a 
smile.  "To-morry  's  eliction,  annyhow,  and 
I  'm  goin'  to  town." 

Then  she  turned  and  went  slowly  back  into 
the  old  farm-house,  having  signed  with  her  own 
hand  the  warrant  which  committed  her  to  what 
she  was  sure  would  be  worse  than  solitary  con- 
finement. 


xxin 

EARLY  on  the  morning  of  Election  Day 
King  Anders  and  his  six  sons  hitched  up 
the  horses  and  drove  away.  Even  the  hired 
men  were  given  a  day  off.  The  farm  was  de- 
serted, save  for  the  two  women. 

In  Liberty  the  polls  opened  at  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  Higgins,  Tom  Hahn,  Pat,  the 
Captain,  and  others  directly  interested,  were 
up  and  about  even  before  that  hour.  They  met 
at  headquarters  in  the  room  over  the  engine- 
house. 

"I  '11  stay  here  all  day,"  said  Chairman 
Higgins,  "and  if  anything  turns  up  you  '11 
know  where  to  find  me.  The  rest  of  you  get 
out  and  hustle." 

Presently  it  developed  that  Lawyer  "Wagner 
had  spent  a  part  of  King  Anders '  contribution 
to  the  campaign  fund  in  hiring  all  the  avail- 
able hacks  and  carriages,  for  use  in  bringing 
Republican  voters  to  the  polls.  When  Tom 

245 


246  THE  UPSTART 

Hahn  saw  the  swarm  of  vehicles  Displaying  the 
red  and  blue  banners  of  the  Republican  ticket, 
he  hurried  up  to  the  house  and  hitched  up  his 
own  white  mare.  On  the  way  he  met  Fred  Wil- 
liams, son  of  the  campaign  treasurer,  and  he 
promised  to  bring  down  the  family  carriage 
and  pair.  Pauline  Schumacher  called  to  Tom 
from  the  next  yard  and  offered  her  own  pony 
and  phaeton  for  the  good  of  the  cause. 

"I  '11  drive  it  myself,"  she  said.  ''No,  I  '11 
take  the  double-seated  wagon  and  get  Jack  to 
go  with  me!" 

All  the  way  up  Main  Street  Tom  got  recruits 
and  in  an  hour  more  than  a  dozen  private  car- 
riages were  dashing  about  the  streets,  each 
bearing  the  legend  ''Vote  for  Pat  McCormick 
and  the  Democratic  Ticket." 

The  first  load  which  Pauline  Schumacher 
and  Jack  Hahn  brought  to  the  polls  consisted 
of  old  Slayson,  who  for  ten  years  had  taken 
care  of  the  Halms'  lawn,  Herr  Professor  Her- 
mann, the  huge,  heavily-bearded  old  German 
who  had  been  the  earliest  apostle  of  music  in 
Liberty,  and  little  Jimmy  Strait,  who  had  se- 
cretly worshiped  Jack  Hahn  ever  since  they 


THE  UPSTART  247 

had  both  graduated  from  the  high  school  and 
whom  she  bore  away  in  triumph  from  the  door 
of  his  father's  butcher-shop. 

Tom  Hahn  met  them,  laughing,  at  the  curb 
in  front  of  the  little  hotel  where  the  votes  were 
cast. 

"Well,  Professor,"  he  said,  "what  do  you 
think  about  the  new  woman  in  politics  now? 
I  '11  take  the  rig  off  your  hands  now,  girls." 

"Indeed  you  won't,"  answered  his  -sister. 
"We  're  having  a  fine  time.  And  we  can  get  a 
lot  more  votes  than  you  can,  can't  we  Pau- 
line?" 

The  polls  closed  at  six  o'clock.  Out  at  the 
Anders  farm  the  day  dragged.  Ahtje  and  her 
mother  kept  steadily  at  their  work,  both  lonely 
and  under  a  strain.  The  old  woman  yearned 
to  speak  to  her  daughter  tenderly  and  to  try  to 
comfort  her.  The  girl,  her  hands  mechani- 
cally busy  with  the  homely  tasks  of  the  kitchen, 
sent  her  spirit  abroad  to  cheer  her  lover  in  his 
battle  at  the  polls.  Almost  despairingly,  she 
prayed  for  his  success. 

After  an  early  supper  she  went  to  her  little 
bedroom  and  lay  there  for  hours,  sleepless 


248  THE  UPSTART 

with  anxiety.  It  was  nearly  midnight  when 
she  heard  her  father  come  in.  He  seemed  to 
walk  straight  through  the  kitchen  to  his  bed- 
room. Then  came  the  muffled  sound  of  three 
or  four  questions  on  the  part  of  her  mother 
and  as  many  short,  gruff  replies.  After  that 
there  was  silence. 

An  hour  later  Antje  was  roused  from  a 
troubled  sleep  by  the  sound  of  boisterous  talk- 
ing just  outside  the  house.  Presently  her 
brothers,  Klaas  and  Piet,  tramped  into  the 
kitchen,  talking  and  laughing  noisily. 

"Hush  the  noise  and  go  to  bed  yet,"  called 
the  old  King  angrily  from  his  bedroom. 

Then  Klaas  replied  in  a  thick,  unsteady 
voice,  speaking  first  to  his  brother  in  what  was 
intended  to  be  a  whisper. 

"The  old  man  is  sore  yet,  huh,  Pietf"  he 
said  and  then  in  a  louder  tone :  ' '  Say,  father, 
the  boys  in  town  give  you  the  laugh.  They 
say  you  put  up  five  thousand  dollars  to  beat 
Pat  McCormick.  Lawyer  Wagner  puts  most 
of  it  in  his  pocket,  already,  and  Pat  McCormick 
gets  elected  by  the  biggest  majority  on  the 
ticket.  Heh!  I  don't  blame  you  when  you 
feel  sore!" 


THE  UPSTART  249 

Antje  heard  the  old  man 's  incoherent  retort 
and  the  confused  sound  of  several  angry  voices 
talking  at  once.  Then  a  deep  silence  spread 
over  the  household  and  the  girl  buried  a  hot 
cheek  in  her  pillow  and  cried  softly— for  joy 
at  the  success  of  the  man  she  loved.  She  knew 
that  defeat  would  make  her  father  more  savage 
and  vindictive,  and  that  on  her  would  be 
visited  his  displeasure.  But  that  was  nothing 
beside  the  glorious  fact  that  Pat  had  won! 

Pat  McCormick  and  the  other  Democratic 
candidates,  with  their  managers  and  friends, 
received  the  news  of  their  election  in  the 
headquarters  at  the  engine-house.  By  nine 
o'clock  it  was  known  that  the  town  of  Liberty 
had  given  the  ticket  a  large  majority.  Pres- 
ently the  first  report  came  in  from  the  country 
towns.  It  was  brought  by  a  man  on  horse-back, 
who  announced  that  in  Monroe  township, 
usually  strongly  Democratic,  King  Anders  had 
cut  down  the  majority  to  a  few  votes.  That, 
for  a  time,  caused  some  alarm,  but  before  mid- 
night, it  was  certainly  known  that  the  Repub- 
licans were  overwhelmingly  defeated  and  Pat 
went  home  to  take  the  news. 

The  little  cottage  was  all  aglow,  a  kerosene 


250  THE  UPSTART 

lamp  shining  in  each  one  of  the  front  windows, 
and  from  the  porch  hung  a  big  flag.  But  when 
he  stepped  inside  the  door  the  sitting-room 
was  empty. 

"Mother!"  he  called  jubilantly.  "We  Ve 
won!" 

At  his  call  the  door  leading  to  the  kitchen 
burst  suddenly  open  and  out  sprang  Aunt 
Bridget,  with  a  whoop  of  joy.  Clutched  in  her 
two  hands,  her  arms  held  out  stiff  before  her, 
she  carried  a  black,  broad-cloth,  frock  coat. 

"Here  it  is,  yer  Honor!"  she  cried.  "Here 
it  is !  Hurrah  for  the  litthle  peepul ! ' ' 

Behind  her,  awkwardly  and  half  shyly,  came 
Mrs.  McCormick.  She  bore,  as  if  it  had  been 
an  imperial  crown,  a  shining  silk  hat. 

"From  yere  mother  and  yere  aunt,"  said 
Aunt  Bridget,  with  a  profound  curtsey.  * '  And 
a  proud  day  it  is  for  the  County  Roscommon ! ' ' 

There  were  tears  in  Pat 's  eyes  as  he  laughed. 
Then  nothing  would  do  but  the  new  regalia 
must  be  put  on  and  Aunt  Bridget  walked 
around  the  room  to  admire  the  spectacle  from 
every  angle. 

"  'T  is  the  grandest  sight  a  human  bein'  ivir 
gazed  upon, ' '  she  announced  finally. 


THE  UPSTART  251 

Old  Mrs.  McCormick,  leaning  against  the 
wall,  with  admiration  and  boundless  love  shin- 
ing in  her  rugged  old  face,  suddenly  covered 
her  eyes  with  her  hands. 

"Why,  mother,  what  's  the  matter?"  cried 
Pat  in  alarm. 

"Oh,  sure,"  she  wailed,  shaking  her  head 
from  side  to  side,  despairingly,  "I  'm  wishin' 
my  Mike — God  save  his  soul— were  here  to 
see ! ' ' 

In  the  morning  Pat  started  downtown  in  the 
highest  spirits.  On  the  way  fully  a  score  of 
people  stopped  to  congratulate  him  and  give 
him  their  best  wishes.  He  stuck  his  head  into 
the  room  over  the  engine-house  which  had  been 
used  for  headquarters.  Higgins  and  Tom 
Hahn  were  already  there  and  a  crowd  of  men 
were  sitting  about,  discussing  the  result.  They 
raised  a  cheer  at  the  sight  of  him. 

"You  lead  the  ticket,  Pat,"  said  Higgins, 
gripping  his  hand.  "It  's  a  landslide.  Half 
the  counties  in  the  state  have  gone  Democratic. 
Look  here  what  the  Clarion  has  to  s"ay  about 
you. ' ' 

' '  The  great  surprise  of  the  whole  unexpected 
result,"  Pat  read,  "is  the  astonishing  majority 


252  THE  UPSTAET 

of  Patrick  McCormick,  candidate  for  prose- 
cuting attorney.  He  received  nearly  four  hun- 
dred more  votes  than  the  next  highest  man  on 
either  ticket.  The  river  ward— as  might  have 
been  expected— voted  solidly  for  him  and  the 
silk  stockings  of  upper  Main  Street  were  not 
far  behind  in  support.  In  addition  he  seems  to 
have  got  practically  the  entire  Grand  Army 
vote  throughout  the  entire  county. 

"The  Clarion  strongly  opposed  Mr.  McCor- 
mick's  election,  but  it  cannot  fail  to  recognize 
that  he  has  shown  himself  to  be  extremely 
popular  with  the  voters  of  Liberty  County. 
Now  that  the  fight  is  over,  it  is  only  fair  to 
admit  that  during  the  campaign  he  displayed 
most  extraordinary  power  as  a  public  speaker. 
Beginning  with  a  really  eloquent  oration  at 
the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  soldiers' 
monument,  he  spoke  forcibly,  more  than  once, 
to  large  audiences  in  every  township  in  the 
county.  He  owes  the  impressive  majority  by 
which  he  leads  all  competitors  almost  entirely 
to  his  own  exertions.  We  venture  to  express 
the  hope  that  his  friends  may  not  be  disap- 
pointed in  his  future  career." 


THE  UPSTART  253 

Pat  looked  up  from  the  paper,  flattered  and 
proud,  yet  embarrassed  in  his  pride. 

''I  'm  going  over  to  the  post-office,"  he  said, 
by  way  of  covering  his  confusion.  "I  '11  be 
back  shortly." 

'  *  Be  sure, ' '  Higgins  whispered  to  him  as  he 
went  out.  "There  is  something  important  I 
want  to  see  you  about." 

Pat  walked  down  the  two  blocks  of  Main 
Street  with  his  head  in  the  clouds,  finding  it 
hard  to  conceal  the  happiness  he  could  not 
help  but  feel.  At  the  post-office  there  was  a 
single  letter  waiting  for  him. 

It  was  the  letter  which  Antje  Anders  had 
written  the  day  before  election  and  had  given 
to  the  hired  man  to  mail.  He  read  it  and  the 
light  faded  out  of  the  sky.  In  his  triumph  the 
proudest  thought  had  been  that  now  he  had 
something  worth  while  to  offer  her.  If  he  had 
failed  the  blow  would  have  been  easier.  But 
coming  most  cruelly  in  the  moment  of  his  vic- 
tory, it  took  all  the  sparkle  out  of  his  ambition ; 
all  the  zest  and  spirit  from  life  itself. 

"I  have  made  up  my  mind,"  she  wrote,  and 
"please  take  this  as  final." 


XXIV 

CHAIRMAN  HIGGINS  sat  late  in  his 
V_y  library  going  over  the  returns.  Not  only 
Liberty,  but  Washington  and  Madison  Coun- 
ties, the  three  making  up  the  Twentieth  con- 
gressional district,  had  gone  Democratic  for 
the  first  time  since  the  war.  Higgins  set  down 
on  a  sheet  of  paper  the  majorities  received  by 
all  the  winning  candidates  in  each  of  the  three 
counties.  He  studied  and  compared  the  figures 
carefully. 

"By  George!"  he  said  to  himself.  "I  be- 
lieve we  can  do  it." 

For  years  the  district  had  been  represented 
in  Congress  by  John  Mason  of  Washington 
County,  a  Republican.  Mason  was  not  a  man 
of  any  especial  ability  or  unusual  brilliancy. 
He  had  made  many  enemies  in  the  district. 

Next  morning  Higgins  ran  over  to  Allenton, 
the  county-seat  of  Washington  County  and  had 
an  interview  with  his  friend,  Charley  Johnson, 

.254 


THE  UPSTART  255 

chairman  of  the  Democratic  county  committee. 
The  following  day  Pat  McCormick  got  a  let- 
ter from  Johnson,  signed  in  his  official  capac- 
ity, inviting  him  to  make  the  principal  speech 
at  a  Democratic  ratification-meeting  in  Allen- 
ton. 

Unhappy  and  disheartened  by  the  letter  from 
Antje,  the  Johnson  invitation,  though  so  flat- 
tering in  terms  and  so  inspiring  in  the  oppor- 
tunity it  offered,  came  without  a  thrill.  Pat's 
first  and  strong  impulse  was  to  decline  it.  It 
did  not  seem  worth  while  to  make  the  effort. 
But  that,  he  reflected,  would  be  the  part  of  a 
child.  He  needed  something  to  keep  him  from 
brooding  uselessly  on  what  he  had  lost.  He 
sat  down  at  once  and  forced  himself  to  write 
an  acceptance.  Next  day  he  told  Higgins  what 
he  had  done.  TJie  Chairman,  speaking  as  if  it- 
were  all  news  to  him,  was  warm  in  his  congrat- 
ulations. 

"It  's  a  fine  chance,  Pat,"  he  said,  "and 
more  may  depend  on  it  than  you  imagine.  You 
must  give  them  a  ripper.  My  reputation  's 
at  stake,  as  well  as  your  own." 

As  Pat  plunged  into  the  work  of  preparing 


256  THE  UPSTART 

his  speech  he  found  his  enthusiasm  growing. 
Resolutely,  with  clenched  teeth,  he  drove  the 
thought  of  his  great  disappointment  out  of 
his  mind.  The  love  of  a  woman  was  not  the 
only  thing  worth  while  in  the  world.  He 
fiercely  concentrated  all  his  energies  upon  the 
writing  of  his  speech  and  the  joy  of  the  born 
orator  filled  him,  as  he  worked  it  out  to  a  splen- 
did climax.  As  he  finished  one  period,  tears 
were  in  his  eyes;  at  the  conclusion  of  another 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  and,  standing  before  the 
mirror,  rehearsed  its  stately  sentences  in  a 
voice  that  roused  Aunt  Bridget  from  her  mid- 
night slumber.  When  the  last  word  was  writ- 
ten he  threw  himself  on  the  bed  and  slept 
soundly  until  morning. 

Down  at  Allenton,  Higgins,  who  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  State  Central  Committee,  as  well  as 
head  of  the  county  organization,  had  been  at 
work  through  his  friend  Johnson.  The  Demo- 
crats, so  long  silent  and  uncomf orted  in  defeat, 
were  brought  into  the  city  from  all  over  the 
district  on  special  trains.  Marching  clubs 
from  each  of  the  three  county-seats  were  pres- 
ent, each  headed  by  a  brass  band.  At  the  cor- 


THE  UPSTART  257 

ners  of  the  court-house  square  huge  bonfires 
were  built  and  there,  standing  on  a  wooden 
platform,  Pat  was  introduced  to  the  huge, 
cheering  crowd. 

"The  Twentieth  congressional  district  has 
redeemed  herself,''  said  Chairman  Johnson. 
"In  each  of  her  three  counties  every  Demo- 
cratic candidate  has  been  elected.  To-night  I 
have  the  honor  of  introducing  to  you  the  man 
who  won  the  most  sweeping  victory  among 
them  all— the  Irish  Bantam  of  Liberty  County 
—Honorable  Patrick  McCormick." 

The  bands  burst  into  wild  discordant  wel- 
come ;  down  in  front,  Higgins,  Tom  Hahn  and 
the  delegation  from  Liberty  led  the  cheers; 
from  five  thousand  throats  rose  the  shrill 
triumphant  voice  of  "the  unterrified  and  un- 
conquerable Democracy."  Then  Pat  spoke. 

Next  morning  the  Chicago  Tribune,  whose 
correspondent  had  been  present  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  Higgins,  said: 

"Not  in  ten  years  has  there  been  such  a  scene  of 
enthusiasm  and  tumult  at  a  political  meeting  in  Illi- 
nois as  that  which  followed  the  conclusion  of  his 
speech.  From  this  time  on  Mr.  McCormick  must  be 

17 


258  THE  UPSTART 

reckoned  with  among  the  political   factors  of  the 
state." 

Next  day  Higgins,  Tom  Hahn,  old  Williams 
and  the  other  members  of  the  county  central 
committee  tramped  into  Pat's  law  office.  He 
looked  up  in  surprise  from  his  desk  and  saw 
the  smiling  faces  of  his  friends. 

"Pat,"  said  Higgins,  "we  want  you  to  run 
for  Congress.  Wait  a  minute,"  he  went  on 
smilingly,  as  the  young  man  started  to  speak. 
1 '  The  election  is  four  months  off.  The  conven- 
tion to  nominate  a  Democratic  candidate  will 
be  held  in  August.  There  's  no  time  to  lose. 
We  don 't  want  an  answer  now.  Think  it  over 
and  let  us  know  to-morrow." 

Pat  thanked  the  committee.  In  his  heart  he 
knew  already  that  he  should  accept  the  offer 
if  it  were  possible.  Politics  was  his  mistress 
now  and,  the  warmer  he  made  his  wooing  of 
her,  the  less  he  should  be  tormented  with  de- 
spairing thoughts  of  Antje  Anders.  Besides,  his 
youthful  blood  was  stirred  with  new  conscious- 
ness of  power.  The  dazzling  prospect  of  con- 
gressional honors  did  not  frighten  him.  And  in 
a  far  corner  of  his  mind  lurked  the  unexpressed 


THE  UPSTABT  259 

thought  that  he  might  show  the  girl  that  what 
she  rejected  had  a  higher  value  than  she 
had  dreamed  of. 

Higgins  remained  after  the  rest  of  the  com- 
mittee had  gone  out.  "It  's  like  this,  Pat, ' '  he 
said.  ' '  The  Democratic  nominee  this  year  will 
have  pretty  nearly  a  cinch.  The  fight  '11  be 
for  the  nomination.  Washington  County  has 
had  the  Congressman  so  long  that  it  won't 
have  a  candidate.  That  leaves  it  between  us 
and  Madison.  On  the  basis  of  the  last  vote, 
Madison  County  will  have  eighteen  delegates 
to  the  convention,  Liberty  County  twenty-one 
and  Washington  County  twenty.  The  man 
who  carries  Liberty  County  and  who  can  get 
half  of  Washington's  vote  '11  win.  I  've  got  it 
fixed  already  with  Johnson  that,  if  he  can  con- 
trol it,  we  shall  have  ten  of  Washington 's  dele- 
gates. And  you  can  get  Liberty's  solid  dele- 
gation without  half  trying.  See?" 

Before  Pat  McCormick  formally  announced 
his  candidacy,  Higgins  succeeded  in  arranging 
that  the  nominating  convention  should  meet  in 
the  Grand  Opera  House  at  Liberty  on  the  first 
Thursday  in  August.  Delegates  from  each  of 


260  THE  UPSTART 

the  three  counties  in  the  district  were  to  be 
chosen  at  a  primary  election  to  be  held  two 
days  before  that  date. 

The  statement  of  Pat  McCormick's  new  am- 
bition was  given  space  in  all  the  papers  of  the 
district.  Even  the  Republican  Clarion  printed 
a  long  article  on  its  front  page,  declaring  that 
the  newly-elected  prosecuting  attorney  was 
presumptuous  and  absurd  in  aspiring  to  suc- 
ceed the  veteran,  John  Mason,  at  Washington. 

"We  advise  our  friends,  the  enemy,"  said 
the  Clarion, ' '  not  to  bank  too  much  on  the  result 
of  an  off-year  landslide.  When  national  issues 
are  to  be  voted  on,  the  stalwart  Republicans  of 
the  old  Twentieth  district  can  be  depended  on 
to  stick  to  their  guns.  Certainly  they  are  not 
likely  to  send  to  Washington,  in  the  place  of 
our  present  time-tried  and  tested  representa- 
tive, a  young  man  who,  whatever  his  ability,  is 
utterly  without  legislative  experience." 

From  Madison  County  came  the  prompt  an- 
nouncement that  Fred  Steffens,  a  prominent 
German  lawyer,  had  been  chosen  to  carry  its 
banner  in  the  fight  for  the  nomination. 

The  campaign  went  with  a  rush,  as  Higgins 


THE  UPSTART  261 

had  planned  it.  It  was  not  a  succession  of 
speeches  and  big  meetings,  like  that  which  had 
preceded  the  recent  election.  Instead,  Higgins 
and  his  aides  sat  at  headquarters  and  prepared 
lists  of  delegates  to  be  voted  for  at  the  com- 
ing primaries.  Each  man  on  the  list  was 
called  in  and  personally  pledged  to  vote  for 
Pat  McCormick,  as  Liberty  County's  candi- 
date, until  released  by  the  chairman. 

Steffens  was  somewhat  active  in  Washing- 
ton County,  but  Higgins  made  small  effort 
there,  being  content  to  trust  to  his  secret  un- 
derstanding with  Johnson,  head  of  the  county 
organization. 

"I  can  promise  to  deliver  ten  of  our  dele- 
gates to  you,  no  matter  what  happens, ' '  John- 
son assured  him,  a  week  before  the  primaries 
were  held. 


XXV 

FOB  weeks  after  Pat  McCormick's  election 
as  prosecuting  attorney,  King  Anders 
did  not  leave  the  farm.  He  stayed  close  to  the 
house,  though  he  drove  his  sons  and  the  hired 
men  to  their  work  with  even  more  than  his 
usual  savage  energy.  Day  after  day  he  shut 
himself  up  in  his  bedroom  adjoinging  the 
kitchen,  muttering  and  talking  to  himself.  To 
Antje,  busy  with  mechanical,  never-ending 
household  duties,  there  came  to  be  something 
uncanny  in  the  intermittent  rumbling  of  that 
harsh,  old  voice.  As  the  days  went  by  in  their 
dead,  hopeless  monotony,  the  sounds  which 
came  from  her  father's  bedroom  grew  to  be  a 
menace  of  coming  catastrophe.  Sooner  or  later 
she  felt  certain  that  the  old  King  would  rouse 
himself  to  seek  revenge  on  Pat  McCormick  and 
the  others  who  had  helped  to  make^him  ridicu- 
lous, and  every  day  which  passed  without  ac- 
tion on  his  part  made  more  acute  the  dread 

-      262 


THE  UPSTART  263 

that  filled  her.  She  became  a  bundle  of  ting- 
ling nerves,  strained  to  catch  some  hint  of  what 
deep  plot  her  father  was  laying,  so  that  she 
might  warn  her  lover  in  time  to  save  him.  She 
felt  that  she  would  have  stooped  to  any  subter- 
fuge, to  any  trick  of  eavesdropping,  to  protect 
Pat  McCormick  from  what  seemed,  in  her  mor- 
bid mood,  the  conspiracy  that  threatened  him. 
When  the  Weekly  Clarion,  telling  of  Pat's 
triumph  at  tlje  Allenton  ratification-meeting, 
reached  the  farm,  she  took  it  to  her  bedroom 
and,  behind  a  locked  door,  laughed  and  cried 
there,  for  joy  at  what  he  had  done.  But  when 
she  saw  how  the  King's  sullen  and  morose 
wrath  was  rekindled  when  he  read  it,  her  dread 
came  back  stronger  than  before.  Then  came 
the  paper  of  the  next  week,  which  announced 
that  Pat  McCormick  was  a  candidate  for  the 
Democratic  nomination  for  Congress.  She 
was  not  at  the  house  when  the  paper  arrived 
and,  before  she  returned,  her  father  had 
hitched  up  and  driven  to  town  for  the  first  time 
in  months.  She  did  not  notice  his  absence  for 
some  hours  and  the  paper  which  explained 
it  did  not  fall  into  her  hands  until 


264  THE  UPSTART 

late  in  the  afternoon.  Then  it  seemed  to  her 
that  her  heart  stood  still.  The  announcement, 
she  felt,  might  drive  her  father  to  any  des- 
perate act  and  she  had  been  too  late  to  send 
word  to  Pat  of  his  danger.  In  an  agony  of 
nervous  fear  she  kept  about  her  work  until 
she  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  coming  up  the 
lane.  Then  she  went  out  into  the  yard  as  her 
father  drove  by  to  the  barn. 

"Here,  Antje,"  the  King  called  to  her. 
"I  Ve  got  you  a  letter  yet." 

He  threw  her  the  letter  as  he  passed.  She 
recognized  Tom  Hahn's  writing.  It  was  the 
first  time  her  father  had  spoken  to  her  for 
months.  She  knew  that  something  had  hap- 
pened to  relax  his  stubborn  mood,  but  it  was 
impossible,  even  to  imagine  what  it  might  be. 
She  took  the  letter  and  went  up  to  her  bed- 
room. 

When  King  Anders  read  that  Pat  McCor- 
mick  was  a  candidate  for  Congress,  he  had 
wasted  not  a  minute.  One  hour  later  he 
walked  into  Lawyer  Wagner 's  office.  Wagner, 
looking  up  from  his  table,  took  the  opening. 

"Well,  Anders,"  he  said,  quickly,  "you  're 


THE  UPSTART  265 

a  stranger.  The  Demmys  skinned  us  good  and 
plenty,  did  n't  they?" 

"Yes,"  growled  the  King.  "What  became 
of  that  money  of  mine,  already?" 

1  i  I  did  the  best  I  could  with  it.  Why,  young 
McCormick  carried  your  own  town  against 
you.  I  don't  see  how  you  could  expect  me  to 
do  any  better. ' ' 

"What  you  do  with  the  money,  huh?" 

' '  Here  are  the  vouchers, ' '  said  Wagner,  tak- 
ing a  lot  of  receipted  bills  from  a  pigeon-hole. 
"Every  cent  's  accounted  for." 

"Uh-h, "  said  Anders,  with  a  contemptuous 
glance  at  the  papers,  "you  got  that  fixed  all 
right." 

"But  now,"  the  lawyer  went  on  impres- 
sively, ignoring  the  innuendo,  "he  's  going  to 
run  for  Congress  and  now  we  Ve  got  a 
chance. ' ' 

Wagner  lowered  his  voice  and,  as  the  King 
listened  to  the  unfolding  of  the  plan,  a 
malicious  twinkle  came  into  his  small,  black 
eyes. 

"I  go  me  right  back  and  start-  '  he  began, 
but  Wagner  interrupted. 


266  THE  UPSTART 


. . 


'Now  wait  a  minute,"  lie  said.     ''If  they 

• 

get  even  a  suspicion  of  what  you  're  going  to 
do,  they  can  beat  us  to  death.  You  must  let  on 
that  you  don't  take  a  bit  of  interest  in  the 
primaries. ' 

He  talked  in  low  tones  for  fifteen  minutes, 
impressing  upon  King  Anders  the  details  of 
the  plot  and  the  necessity  for  absolute  secrecy. 

"By  Gott!  Wagner,"  Anders  burst  out 
finally,  "I  believe  we  get  him  this  time  sure. 
We  teach  him  yet,  huh?" 

"It  all  depends  on  how  carefully  you  do  it," 
answered  the  lawyer.  "And  you  don't  want 
to  be  seen  about  my  office  again  until  the 
thing  's  all  over." 

King  Anders  went  home  like  a  boy  with  a 
new  pet.  The  look  of  shrewd  and  cunning  self- 
satisfaction  had  come  back  again  to  his  face. 
Antje,  picking  up  the  letter  which  he  had 
thrown  her,  had  noticed  the  change  and  tried 
vainly  to  guess  its  cause.  That  wonder  was 
still  first  in  her  mind  as  she  tore  the  envelope 
to  read  what  Tom  Hahn  had  to  say. 

' '  This  is  the  third  time  I  have  written  you, ' ' 
he  said,  "since  your  letter  came.  I  can't  un- 
derstand why  you  do  not  answer.  I  think  I  have 


THE  UPSTART  267 

a  right  to  know  why  you  will  not  marry  me. 
You  don't  say;  you  give  no  reason.  At  least 
let  me  see  you,  before  you  finally  make  up  your 
mind.  My  great  love  for  you  is  surely  suffi- 
cient reason  for  this  insistence." 

He  had  written  her  twice  before?  Where 
had  the  letters  gone?  Her  father  had  kept 
them,  of  course.  Perhaps,  also,  he  had  kept 
from  her  a  letter  from  Pat  McCormick.  For 
that  she  hated  him.  Now  she  must  answer 
Tom  Hahn. 

"Dear  Tom,"  she  wrote.  "I  have  just  had 
your  letter  of  Thursday.  The  other  two 
you  wrote  have  never  reached  me.  You  say 
you  have  a  right  to  know  why  I  will  not 
marry  you.  I  agree  with  you  and  I  will  tell 
you,  since  you  ask,  though,  as  you  say  you  love 
me,  you  must  keep  my  secret  in  the  strictest 
confidence.  I  cannot  marry  you  because  I  love 
another  man.  I  can  give  you  no  better  proof 
of  my  feeling  for  you  than  to  tell  you  this,  for 
you  and  I  are  the  only  ones  who  know  it — and 
no  one  else  must  know.  I  cannot  even  mention 
his  name.  If  it  is  hard  for  you,  please  do  not 
think  it  is  easy  for  me. ' ' 

When  she  went  down  to  see  about  the  mail- 


268  THE  UPSTAKT 

ing  of  her  letter,  her  father  was  bustling  about 
the  house  and  exchanging  jests  with  her  mother, 
in  a  mood  so  different  from  that  which  had 
held  him  for  months  that  she  was  frightened. 
More  than  ever  now  she  felt  that  she  must  be 
on  her  guard.  She  knew  that  something  was  on 
foot  which  involved  the  happiness  and  fortune 
of  Pat  McCormick.  How  she  yearned  for  a 
word  from  him,  just  to  say  that  he  was  well 
and  that  he  loved  her,  for,  in  spite  of  the  letter 
she  had  written  him,  she  felt  that  he  should 
somehow  have  guessed  the  truth. 

The  next  morning  her  father  was  up  early 
and  went  out  to  visit  one  of  the  old,  vacant 
houses  which  still  stood  on  the  various  farms 
he  had  swallowed  up.  A  few  days  later  a  new 
family,  with  three  or  four  grown  boys  among 
its  members,  moved  into  the  house. 

"I  think  I  try  me  how  some  tenants  work, 
yet, ' '  the  King  announced  at  the  table.  ' i  I  get 
some  more  out  here  next  week." 

Almost  every  day  now,  another  one  of  the 
vacant  houses  on  the  Anders'  land  was  oc- 
cupied by  a  family  and  every  family  seemed  to 
be  made  up  largely  of  men.  Never  before  had 


THE  UPSTART  269 

the  King  ever  rented  an  acre  of  his  land.  He 
had  always  insisted  on  working  it  all  under  his 
own  supervision.  Why  this  sudden  change  in  a 
life-long  policy?  What  possible  effect  could  it 
have  on  Pat  McCormick  and  on  his  ambition 
to  go  to  Congress?  The  girl  was  puzzled,  en- 
tirely at  sea.  She  thought  of  writing  to  Tom 
Hahn  and  asking  his  advice.  But,  under  the 
circumstances,  that  seemed  impossible. 

Finally  the  vacant  houses  were  all  filled  up. 
The  new  tenants  seemed  to  be  strangely  un- 
sociable. They  kept  closely  to  themselves, 
having  nothing  to  do  with  any  of  the  neigh- 
boring farmers.  And  Antje  noticed  that  so 
far  as  working  the  land  went  they  seemed  to 
be  strangely  indifferent.  What  was  stranger 
still,  this  laxity  on  their  part  seemed  not  to 
rouse  the  ire  of  the  King.  It  was  a  puzzle  the 
girl  could  not  solve. 

Finally  one  afternoon— it  was  the  day  be- 
fore the  primaries  for  the  election  of  delegates 
to  the  Congressional  convention  were  to  be 
held— she  was  lying  up  in  the  haymow  in  the 
horse  barn,  where  she  went  occasionally  to  be 
alone  with  her  thoughts  and  with  her  love. 


270  THE  UPSTAET 

Her  brothers,  Klaas  and  Piet,  drove  into  the 
stable  below  from  the  fields.  She  heard  them 
as  they  unharnessed  and  put  up  their  horses. 
Then  Klaas,  standing  just  below  the  opening 
to  the  loft,  spoke  with  a  guttural  laugh. 

' '  The  old  man  's  got  that  McCormick  feller 
fixed  this  time,  ain't  he?" 

' '  By  Golly ! ' '  answered  Piet,  ' '  When  he  sees 
you  and  me  and  the  old  man  walk  into  the 
Opera  House  on  Thursday,  I  guess  he  '11  think 
Anders  ain  't  such  a  fool,  yet,  huh  ? ' ' 

It  came  to  her  like  a  flash  that  this  was  the 
secret  she  had  been  seeking.  Just  what  it 
meant  she  did  not  understand,  but  it  was  plain 
that  the  plan  was  to  defeat  Pat  at  the  nominat- 
ing convention.  That  was  only  three  days  off. 
If  he  was  to  be  warned  it  must  be  at  once.  She 
waited  until  her  brothers  had  gone  into  the 
house,  then  hurried  after  them  and  went  up  to 
her  room.  The  thought  that  she  was  doing 
wrong  in  thus  taking  advantage  of  what  she 
had  overheard  did  not  even  occur  to  her.  Her 
one  object  was  to  help  Pat  McCormick  at  any 
cost  and  in  any  way. 

"Dear  Pat,"  she  wrote,  her  fingers  flying, 


THE  UPSTART  271 

' '  Father  and  the  boys  are  planning  to  beat  you 
at  the  convention.  I  don't  know  how,  but  I 
heard  Klaas  say  this  afternoon  that  you  would 
be  surprised  when  he  and  Piet  and  father  walk 
into  the  Opera  House  on  Thursday  afternoon. 
For  three  months  father  has  been  filling  up  all 
the  vacant  houses  on  his  farm  with  tenant  lam- 
ilies.  I  suppose  that  has  something  to  do  with 
it.  I  'm  sorry  I  did  n't  have  sense  enough  to 
see  it  before,  for  I  >m  afraid  the  news  comes 
to  you  too  late.  I  don't  know  how  I  'm  going 
to  get  this  note  to  you,  but  I  '11  try  to  find  a 
way.  I  hope  you  '11  win— I  'm  sure  you  will. 

"Antje." 

She  wrote  without  stopping  to  think  how 
the  receipt  of  this  note  must  affect  the  man 
who  had  received  her  cold  and  formal  letter 
of  rejection.  Putting  it  hurriedly  into  an  en- 
velop she  slipped  away  across  the  fields  to  the 
Luders  farm-house.  Mrs.  Luders  was  in  the 
kitchen. 

"Can  you  get  this  letter  mailed  for  me  to- 
night?" asked  Antje  breathlessly. 

' '  Yes,  sure, ' '  Mrs.  Luders  answered.  ' l  He  ?s 
going  in  to-night  and  I  '11  put  it  up  here  on  the 


272  THE  UPSTART 

clock  to  give  to  him."  By  "he"  Mrs.  Luders 
meant  her  husband,  of  course.  She  always  so 
referred  to  him. 

Early  the  next  morning  King  Anders,  his 
sons  and  his  hired  men  left  the  house.  One  of 
them  went  straight  to  each  of  the  tenant  farms 
and  there  marshaled  the  voters  they  had  in- 
stalled. Late  in  the  afternoon  they  appeared  at 
the  little  red  school-house,  where  the  primary 
election  was  held.  The  judges  found  that  all 
the  necessary  formalities  had  been  attended 
to.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  permit  them 
to  cast  their  votes.  Each  of  them  cast  a  ballot 
for  a  delegate  ticket  on  which  appeared  the 
names  of  King  Anders  and  his  two  eldest  sons. 
When  the  votes  were  counted  it  was  found  that 
they  had  twelve  majority  over  the  regular 
ticket  prepared  by  Higgins  and  headed  by 
Luders. 

Coming  home  late  that  night  to  supper  King 
Anders  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  glee. 

' '  Huh ! "  he  began.  *  *  I  guess,  maybe  so,  that 
McCormick  feller  finds  out  now  that  he  mon- 
keys mit  a  buzz-saw.  We  three  beat  him  to 
death  in  the  convention  Thursday." 


THE  UPSTABT  273 

Had  her  letter  miscarried?  Had  she  been 
too  late  after  all?  Antje  listened  to  the  taunt 
with  cheeks  that  burned  and  hot  tears  of  anger 
in  her  eyes.  Her  father  looked  at  her  and 
chuckled  grimly. 

"I  guess  maybe  so  that  young  upstart  has 
to  move  back  to  Shantytown  where  he  belongs 
and  go  to  work  yet,  huh,  Antje?" 

The  girl  did  not  answer.  She  clenched  her 
hands  and  strove  to  keep  back  the  hot  tears. 

"What  you  got  to  say  to  that,  Antje,  huh?" 
he  persisted,  brutally. 

"I  wrote  him  yesterday  what  you  were  do- 
ing," she  flashed  back  at  him.  "He  '11  beat 
you  yet." 

Then  she  turned  and  ran  sobbing  up  the 
stairs  to  her  room.  From  below  the  sound  of 
boisterous  laughter  came  up  to  her. 


18 


XXVI 

HAVING  furnished  King  Anders  with  a 
plan  for  defeating  the  congressional  am- 
bitions of  Pat  McCormick,  Lawyer  Wagner 
set  about  gratifying  a  private  and  personal 
spite  of  his  own.  His  own  feeling  towards  ' '  the 
Irish  Bantam  of  Liberty  County"  had  come  to 
be  only  less  bitter  than  that  of  the  King  him- 
self. He  chuckled  with  malicious  self-satisfac- 
tion as  he  finished  writing  a  brief  editorial  for 
the  Clarion. 

"I  guess  he  and  Higgins  '11  fall  right  into 
this  figure-four  trap,"  he  said  to  himself  as 
he  read  it  over  for  the  tenth  time. 

' '  Political  ambition  is  commendable, ' '  he  had 
written.  "And  a  man  who  is  suddenly  raised 
from  the  street  to  a  place  of  considerable  polit- 
ical power  may  almost  be  excused  if  he  loses 
his  head.  But,  however  dazzled,  he  should  try 
to  remember  that  a  high  position  carries  with 
it  certain  responsibilities.  A  man  is  not  elected 

274 


THE  UPSTART  275 

prosecuting  attorney,  for  instance,  in  order 
that  he  may  live  on  the  salary  of  that  office 
while  he  is  trying  to  obtain  a  nomination  for 
Congress.  Common  decency,  if  nothing  else, 
should  lead  him  to  resign  one  office,  while  fight- 
ing for  the  other,  or  else  give  up  his  ideas  of 
further  preferment  and  settle  down  to  try  to 
earn  the  salary  he  is  drawing. ' ' 

Pat  read  the  paragraph  in  the  Clarion  and 
took  it  over  to  headquarters. 

"I  think  Wagner  's  right  about  that,"  he 
said  to  Higgins,  when  the  chairman  had  read 
it.  "I  '11  have  to  resign,  anyhow,  right  after 
the  convention — that  is  if  I  'm  nominated. ' ' 

"Well,  there  's  no  doubt  about  that,"  said 
Higgins.  "But  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  doing 
what  Wagner  says.  He  is  n't  making  the  sug- 
gestion for  our  benefit,  you  know." 

"  If  I  stick,  it  '11  give  the  Republicans  some- 
thing to  talk  about  when  the  campaign  opens. 
And  I  don't  see  that  Wagner  has  shown  him- 
self to  be  especially  brilliant  so  far,  do  you  ? ' ' 

"All  right,"  said  Higgins.  "Send  'er  in. 
If  there  's  a  nigger  in  the  wood-pile  this  time  I 
don't  see  him." 


276  THE  UPSTAET 

So  Pat  sent  in  his  resignation  to  the  Gov- 
ernor and,  when  its  acceptance  was  made  pub- 
lic, Lawyer  Wagner  smiled  grimly. 

"I  guess  that  young  man  '11  be  out  of  a  job 
altogether  pretty  soon,"  he  said. 

Up  to  the  day  of  the  primary  election,  Hig- 
gins  held  a  weekly  conference  with  the  chair- 
men of  the  various  township  committees.  Once 
he  asked  Luders,  head  of  the  organization  in 
Monroe  township,  whether  King  Anders  was 
showing  any  signs  of  activity. 

"No,  I  guess  the  old  man  got  his  belly  full 
at  the  last  election, ' '  Luders  answered.  ' '  He  's 
farming  now.  I  hear  he  's  renting  some  of  his 
land  out  to  tenants.  The  King  has  n't  been 
up  to  working  it  all  himself  since  he  had  that 
stroke. ' ' 

The  evening  before  the  primaries  the  last 
conference  was  held.  Luders  came  in  late  and 
was  in  a  great  hurry. 

"Everything  's  all  right,"  he  reported.  "I 
was  out*buymg  some  sheep  this  afternoon  and 
I  did  n  't  stop  at  the  house  on  my  way  to  town, 
so  I  must  hurry  back.  The  old  woman  '11  think 
something  's  happened  to  me  if  I  don't  get 
home  soon." 


THE  UPSTART  277 

So  far  as  Higgins  had  been  able  to  discover 
there  was  no  opposition  to  his  delegate  ticket 
in  any  part  of  Liberty  County.  The  next  even- 
ing he,  with  the  remainder  of  the  committee 
and  its  candidate,  waited  at  headquarters  to 
receive  such  returns  as  might  come  in.  Luders 

was  one  of  the  first  to  arrive.    He  threw  him- 
i 

self,  breathless  and  white-faced,  from  his  horse 
and  rushed  up  the  stairs.  A  glance  at  his  face 
showed  the  shame  and  chagrin  which  he  felt. 

"What  's  the  matter,  Luders ?"  demanded 
Higgins,  half  rising  from  his  chair. 

"King  Anders,"  he  stammered. 

"He  has  n't-" 

*  *  He  filled  up  all  his  tenant  houses  with  vot- 
ers and  he  beat  us  by  twelve  majority." 

"Good  Lord!"  Higgins  sank  back  into  his 
chair.  "He  what?" 

"He  got  himself  and  his  two  boys  elected 
delegates  by  twelve  majority." 

Pat  McCormick  saw  the  golden  dome  of  the 
Capitol  at  Washington  grow  dim  and  fade  out 
before  his  eyes.  A  feeling  of  rage  filled  him. 

"What  did  you  let  a  lot  of  strangers  vote 
for?"  he  demanded. 

"They  'd  all  been  living  there  long  enough 


278  THE  UPSTAET 

to  vote,"  insisted  Luders,  "and  the  King  had 
affidavits  ready  to  swear  in  everybody  that  we 
objected  to." 

"We  '11  beat  'em  on  a  contest,"  said  Hig- 
gins. 

"The  Steffens  crowd  '11  have  a  majority 
without .  these  three  votes, ' '  broke  in  Pat. 
What  difference  did  it  make  after  all? 
The  bitter  thought  flashed  on  him  that  Antje 
must  have  known  something  about  her  father 's 
plan.  If  she  had  cared  she  would  have  warned 
him. 

"That  's  so,"  said  Higgins,  slowly.  "Well, 
Luders,"  he  went  on,  "you  might  as  well  go 
home.  I  don't  see  anything  you  can  do  now." 

"Maybe  we  can — "  the  man  began,  but  Hig- 
gins interrupted  him.  '  *  I  want  to  think  it  over 
now,"  he  said.  "You  come  in  to-morrow 
morning  and  we  '11  see  what  can  be  done. ' ' 

Luders  reluctantly  left  the  room  and  Hig- 
gins turned  to  his  colleagues. 

"Pat,"  he  said,  "I  knew  Wagner  was  up  to 
something  when  he  said  that  you  should  re- 
sign. ' ' 

"He  apparently  was." 


THE  UPSTART  279 

"I  'm  not  going  to  give  up  yet.  Have  any 
of  you  anything  to  suggest?" 

Several  half-hearted  and  desperate  plans 
were  proposed,  but  none  of  them  appealed  to 
the  practical  sense  of  the  chairman.  Pat 
McCormick  seemed  to  sum  up  the  general  feel- 
ing when  he  said :  i  i  Without  our  home  county 
solidly  with  us,  I  don't  see  that  we  have  much 
show. ' ' 

Higgins  stayed  at  headquarters  after  the 
others  had  gone  home.  "It  's  mostly  my 
fault,  anyway,"  he  said.  "I  did  n't  give  Wag- 
ner and  old  Anders  credit  for  as  much  sense 
as  they  Ve  got  and  I  should  n't  have  trusted 
anything  to  Luders.  He  means  all  right, 
but—  I  'm  going  to  stay  awhile,  anyhow,  and 
see  what  I  can  figure  out." 

Before  he  went  home  Higgins  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  his  friend  Charley  Johnson,  chairman 
of  the  Washington  County  delegation. 

"Meet  me  at  Hanson  Junction  as  early  as 
possible  to-morrow,  Wednesday  morning," 
the  message  said. 


XXVII 

KING  ANDERS  drove  into  Liberty  early 
the  next  morning.  In  his  coat  pocket 
he  carried  the  certificates  of  the  election  that 
accredited  him  and  his  two  sons  as  delegates 
to  the  Congressional  convention.  But  he  did 
not  stop  to  see  Lawyer  Wagner  and  gloat  with 
him  over  the  victory  they  had  won.  Instead, 
he  tied  his  team  in  front  of  the  court-house  and 
tramped  heavily  up  the  stairway  across  Main 
Street,  which  led  to  the  office  of  Pat  McCor- 
mick. 

Pat  happened  to  be  alone  in  the  room,  hav- 
ing come  down  to  look  over  his  mail. 

' '  Good  morning,  Mr.  Anders, ' '  he  said,  con- 
trolling himself  with  an  effort,  as  the  old  man 
closed  the  door  behind  him.  "What  can  I  do 
for  you?" 

"Huh!"  said  the  old  King,  with  a  chuckle. 
"I  came  up  to  do  somedings  by  you  this  morn- 
ing already." 

280 


THE  UPSTART  281 

"Sit  down,  sir." 

"So,"  said  the  old  man,  seating  himself,  a 
grin  on  his  face.  "I  hear  you  want  to  go  by 
Congress  yet,  huh!" 

"Yes,  I  am  working  hard  to  that  end,"  an- 
swered Pat  with  a  smile,  falling  in  with  the 
Anders  mood. 

"Well,  we  see  about  that  yet,  huh?"  said 
the  King,  with  a  sudden  scowl  on  his  face. 
"Maybe  so,  when  me  and  my  two  boys  votes 
against  you  that  Steffens  feller  goes?" 

"What  do  you  want  to  see  me  about,  Mr. 
Anders?"  Pat  asked  sharply.  He  could  not 
imagine  what  the  old  man  had  in  mind,  but  he 
had  no  desire  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with  him. 

"I  come  up  here  to  tell  you  that,  maybe  so, 
I  had  three  votes  for  you  yet, ' '  said  the  King, 
his  big,  red  face  wrinkled  into  a  cunning  smile. 

"You— what?"  stammered  Pat  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"Sure,"  the  King  went  on  in  what  was  in- 
tended to  be  a  conciliatory  and  soothing  tone. 
"I  got  these  three  votes  for  you.  But  you 
must  also  do  someding  a  little  for  me." 

"Well-what  is  it?" 


282  THE  UPSTAET 

King  Anders  got  up,  walked  across  to  the 
table,  rested  his  two  huge  hands  on  its  surface 
and  leaned  over,  speaking  in  a  husky  and  con- 
fidential whisper. 

"There  is  mein  girl,  Antje,"  he  said.  "She 
is  no  good.  Naw-w!"  He  shook  his  head, 
convincingly.  ' l  When  she  makes  married  I  not 
give  her  an  acre  of  land."  The  little  gray 
eyes  searched  Pat's  face  shrewdly.  They  saw 
there  a  strange  tumult  of  emotions— astonish- 
ment, anger,  a  flicker  of  hope.  Why  this  speech 
to  him,  who  carried  in  his  breast  pocket  the 
girl's  letter  of  rejection? 

"I  vote  for  you  when  you  promise  to  let 
mein  girl  alone  yet,  huh?"  The  King  thrust 
his  face  further  forward,  waiting  his  answer. 
It  still  wore  a  cunning,  conciliatory  smile. 

Pat  McCormick  squared  his  slim  shoulders ; 
he  rested  his  forefinger  on  the  old  man 's  shoul- 
der. In  the  face  of  the  insult  he  smiled  like  a 
man  to  whom  has  come  a  vision  of  unhoped 
and  impossible  happiness. 

"Mr.  Anders,"  he  said  slowly,  "if  your 
daughter  will  have  me,  I  '11  marry  her  in  spite 
of  you  and  all  hell!" 


THE  UPSTAET  283 

"Marry  you!"  bellowed  the  King.  "Marry 
you !  I  make  her  dead  first !  Und  you,  too ! ' ' 

Tom  Hahn  opened  the  door  and  stepped  in, 
just  as  King  Anders  uttered  his  threat.  The 
King  showed  a  savage  face  over  his  shoulder, 
and  recognized  the  intruder,  then  dropped  his 
arms  and,  without  another  word,  backed  scowl- 
ing out  of  the  office. 

For  a  moment  the  two  young  men  stood 
silent,  looking  straight  into  each  other's  eyes. 
It  was  hard  to  tell  which  face  was  the  whiter. 
Pat  was  the  first  to  speak. 

*  *  Sit  down,  Tom, ' '  he  said,  * '  and  I  '11  tell  you 
about  it." 

Tom  Hahn  dropped  into  a  chair,  his  eyes  still 
fixed  on  Pat. 

"He  came  up  to  offer  me  his  three  votes" — 
Tom  Hahn  sat  up  straight,  surprise  in  his 
face— "provided  I  'd  promise  not  to  marry  his 
daughter. ' ' 

A  sudden  look  of  anger  blazed  in  Tom's  eyes 
at  the  insult  to  his  friend.  "As  if  that  would 
help  me,"  Pat  went  on  bitterly,  "when  she  's 
turned  me  down  cold." 

Tom  Hahn  rose  to  his  feet,  his  face  troubled. 


284  THE  UPSTART 

Pat  stepped  forward  and  held  out  his  hand. 
' ' Forgive  me,  old  man, ' '  he  said.  "It  's  been 
hard  to  give  her  up.  But  I  ought  to  have  con- 
gratulated you  before  this." 

Tom  took  the  offered  hand,  but  shook  his 
head  at  the  same  time.  ' '  Not  me,  Pat, ' '  he  said, 
slowly.  "It  is  n't  me." 

Each  looked  at  the  other,  embarrassed  and 
perplexed.  Then  both  smiled,  doubtfully. 

"  I  'm  ashamed  of  the  way  I  Ve  felt  towards 
you,  Tom." 

1 '  There  are  some  things  a  fellow  can 't  help. ' ' 

"Well,  whatever  happens,  we  '11  stick  to- 
gether now." 

"Nothing  shall  come  between  us." 

Then,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  emotion  he  had 
shown,  Tom  Hahn  dropped  the  hand  of  his 
friend  and  hastily  opened  the  office  door. 
"Good-by,  old  man,"  he  said.  "I  '11  see  you 
this  afternoon." 

Pat  stood  still  a  moment,  his  head  in  a  whirl. 
What  did  it  all  mean!  'He  formed  an  instant 
decision  to  find  out.  Five  minutes  later  he 
secured  a  mount  at  the  livery-stable  opposite 
the  court-house  and  rode  down  Main  Street 


THE  UPSTART  285 

at  a  gallop.  As  he  passed  the  Opera  House 
block  he  caught  sight  of  the  broad  back  of 
King  Anders,  filling  the  stairway  which  led 
up  to  the  office  of  Lawyer  Wagner. 

Crossing  the  Main  Street  bridge  he  turned 
north  into  the  river  road.  He  had  no  definite 
plan  of  action  in  his  mind.  He  only  knew  that 
somehow  he  must  find  out  the  truth.  Could  it 
be  that  after  all  she  loved  him?  Then  what 
mattered  anything  else?  What  mattered  his 
failure  to  win  the  nomination  ?  The  loss  of  his 
position  as  prosecuting  attorney?  The  fierce 
anger  and  savage  threats  of  the  old  King?  If 
she  but  loved  him ! 

He  leaned  over  and  patted  the  horse's  out- 
stretched neck.  "Good  boy!  Good  boy!"  he 
whispered.  "Can  you  carry  us  both?"  And 
laughed  aloud  at  the  thought.  They  clattered 
swiftly  through  King  Anders'  miles  of  sum- 
mer woodlands  and  past  his  yellowing  wheat 
fields.  It  was  harvest  time— harvest  time  for 
the  fields  of  wheat  and  for  the  hopes  of  lovers. 
Surely  she  loved  him  and  somewhere  he  would 
find  her ! 

The  pony  seemed  to  catch  its  rider's  fever 


286  THE  UPSTART 

of  haste.  Its  long  stride  lengthened  and  it 
swept  round  the  corner,  where  stood  the  school- 
house  under  its  elm,  at  a  speed  to  please  the 
temper  of  the  fieriest  Lochinvar. 

For  dear  memory's  sake,  Pat  gave  the  old 
building  a  swift,  tender  glance  of  reminiscent 
affection — then  suddenly  pulled  his  horse  back 
on  its  haunches. 

There  on  the  low  door-step  sat  a  slender 
girl  in  a  blue  dress,  so  wrapped  in  thought  that 
she  had  glanced  with  unseeing  eyes  at  the 
approaching  horseman.  Her  hands  lay  list- 
less in  her  lap,  her  shoulders  had  the  curve  of 
despondency.  For  an  instant  Pat  looked  at 
her,  breathless.  She  was  there  because  she 
loved  him! 

"Antje!"  he  cried,  throwing  himself  from 
his  horse. 

The  girl  started  up,  terror  in  her  eyes.  Her 
red  lips  were  parted  and  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  with  her  quick,  frightened  breathing.  Her 
slender  figure  leaned  back  against  the  door  for 
support. 

"What  has  happened!"  she  cried.  "You 
have  n't  killed  him?" 


THE  UPSTART  287 

He  came  hurrying  to  her,  arms  outstretched, 
laughing  out  of  sheer  joy.  "Nothing  has  hap- 
pened," he  said.  "Nothing— except  that  you 
love  me!" 

Up  to  the  very  edges  of  her  sunny  hair  swept 
the  traitorous  pink  and  her  shining  eyes  grew 
dim  with  tenderness,  but  she  only  pressed  the 
closer  to  the  protecting  wall. 

"No,"  she  stammered,  not  daring  to  look 
him  in  the  eyes,  "I  do  not  love  you." 

*  *  Ant  je,  dearest ! ' '  He  seized  her  brown  hand 
and  covered  it  with  kisses.  Then,  suddenly, 
he  took  her  tightly  into  his  arms.  For  an  in- 
stant she  yielded  herself  to  him  utterly.  He 
felt  her  fluttered  breathing  against  his  heart 
and,  in  a  moment's  ecstasy,  he  kissed  away  the 
tears  which  filled  her  eyes.  Her  round  brown 
arms  went  up  to  twine  about  his  neck,  her  rosy 
face  was  upturned  and  her  lips  lifted  to  his— 
then  suddenly  there  swam  before  her  brim- 
ming eyes  a  scene  of  bloody  conflict— a  pro- 
phetic vision,  it  seemed  to  her,  of  the  hour 
when  her  lover  and  her  father  should  settle 
once  for  all  the  feud  that  was  of  the  old  King's 
making,  and  which  she  knew  he  would  carry 
on  to  the  bitter  end. 


288  THE  UPSTART 

"No!  No!"  she  struggled  and  pulled  her- 
self away  from  his  embrace,  leaning  back 
trembling  against  the  door.  A  blind  terror  of 
what  might  happen,  should  she  yield,  mastered 
her.  "I  do  not  love  you,"  she  said,  fiercely. 
"If  you  loved  me  you  would  not  come  here." 

'  *  Dear  heart ! "  he  pleaded  and  took  her  hand 
again— from  each  to  other  thrilled  the  truth— 
' '  I  know  you  love  me.  I  could  not  stay  away. ' ' 

"You  must  go,"  she  faltered,  "now— at 
once ! ' ' 

"Not  without  you!" 

To  her  strained  ears  came  the  distant  sound 
of  wagon  wheels.  It  might  well  be  her  father 
coining  home.  Her  eyes  were  big  with  terror. 
At  any  cost  of  cruelty  Pat  must  be  sent  away— 
and  quickly.  Her  face  was  that  of  a  tortured 
saint,  but  the  boy  was  too  full  of  his  love  to 
read  it  rightly. 

* '  Pat, ' '  she  said  slowly,  clenching  her  brown 
hands,  "I  do  not  love  you.  You  have  brought 
nothing  but  sorrow  into  my  life.  I  told  you 
not  to  come  here.  You  only  make  me  miser- 
able. I  am  fond  of  you,  Pat— but— I  do  not 
love  you,"  she  lashed  herself  to  repeat. 


"Then  suddenly  he  took  her  tightly  into  his  arms." 


THE  UPSTART  289 

Pat  dropped  back  a  step  as  if  he  had  been 
stabbed.  The  pain  of  it  was  unbelievable.  The 
girl  spared  herself  the  sight  of  nis  face.  She 
was  afraid  to  look. 

"Now,  will  you  go?"  she  urged.  It  was 
plain  to  her  that  he  had  never  had  her  warning 
letter,  else  he  would  not  so  quickly  believe  the 
words  her  anguished  face  belied.  Without 
waiting  for  his  answer,  she  turned  and  slipped 
noiselessly  away  through  the  trees.  He  looked 
up  again  at  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

'  *  Go ! "  she  cried  back  to  him.  ' '  Hurry,  and 
—don't  take  the  river  road!" 

ON  her  homeward  flight  Antje  stopped  at 
the  Luders  farm.  She  burst  into  the  kitchen 
unannounced,  and  fat  old  Mrs.  Luders  turned 
around  at  her  entrance  with  something  like 
haste  in  her  ponderous  movements.  The  girl's 
cheeks  were  flaming  and  an  angry  light  was 
in  her  eyes. 

"What  's  the  matter,  Antje?"  she  asked. 

' '  You  did  n  't  mail  my  letter ! ' '  said  the  girl, 
accusingly. 

"No,"  the  old  woman  began,  but  Antje  in- 

19 


290  THE  UPSTART 

terrupted.  "I  knew  you  had  n't,"  she  broke 
out. 

"He  went  into  town  without  coming  home 
the  other  night, ' '  the  old  woman  went  on,  ' '  but 
he  took  it  in  with  him  this  morning  all  right, ' ' 

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  cried  Antje.  "I  'd  give  my 
life  if  it  had  been  mailed  that  night— or  not 
mailed  at  all!" 

Her  lower  lip  was  quivering  and  her  whole 
figure  trembled  under  the  stress  of  repressed 
emotion.  Farmer  Luders'  huge  old  wife  was  a 
true  woman  and  wise  in  the  reading  of  hearts. 

"Come  here  by  me,  once,  little  madchen," 
she  said  in  her  broken  English,  throwing  one 
massive  arm  about  the  girl's  shaking  shoul- 
ders. 

So  kneeling  on  the  rag  carpet,  with  her  head 
in  old  Mrs.  Luders'  capacious  lap,  Antje  cried 
and  sobbed  at  her  enforced  cruelty  to  the  man 
she  loved,  while  a  big  red  hand  stroked  her 
yellow  braids  and  a  soft  old  voice  said,  sooth- 
ingly, "So-so,  liebchen.  You  been  have  an 
awful  hard  time,  yes  I  But  mebbe  things  come 
out  right  yet." 


XXVIH 

PAT  McCORMICK'S  gray  pony  limped 
back  into  town,  its  rider  dazed  by  the  suc- 
cession of  cruel  blows  which  had  fallen  on  his 
unlucky  head.  All  his  political  ambitions  had 
come  to  worse  than  nothing.  To-morrow  St&f- 
fens  would  certainly  be  nominated  for  Con- 
gress. Three  days  later,  his  resignation 
as  prosecuting  attorney— already  accepted— 
would  go  into  effect.  That  would  leave  him 
penniless— a  counselor  without  clients— to  be- 
gin the  practice  of  law  all  over  again.  And 
the  humiliation  of  political  defeat  would  be  an 
additional  handicap. 

But  that  situation  might  have  been  faced. 
Given  sufficient  incentive  and  he  could  have 
gone  into  that  fight  hoping  for  eventual  victory. 
Fighting  for  her,  no  hope  would  be  too  des- 
perate, no  odds  too  great.  Patience  and  cour- 
age, backed  by  a  woman's  love,  must  conquer. 
But  he  had  just  been  told,  by  her  own  lips,  that 

291 


292  THE  UPSTART 

she  did  not  love  him— had  been  told  that  he 
made  her  only  miserable.  What  was  the  use 
then?  What  mattered  anything! 

The  reaction  came  swiftly.  Clenched  teeth 
and  lowered  brows  succeeded  an  hour  of  utter 
despondency.  Whatever  happened  he  owed 
a  debt  to  himself  and  to  his  friends.  Without 
a  thought  of  dinner  he  went  to  his  office  and 
sat  grimly  down  at  the  desk  to  make  necessary 
plans. 

At  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Higgins  and 
Tom  Hahn  walked  in.  Pat  looked  up  and  the 
expression  on  his  face  somehow  moved  Hig- 
gins to  a  smile. 

' '  Cheer  up ! "  the  chairman  burst  out.  * '  Per- 
haps it  ain't  as  bad  as  you  think!" 

The  candidate  forced  an  answering  smile  and 
the  two  men  pulled  chairs  close  to  the  desk  and 
bent  over  it  in  confidential  whispers. 

"After  you  went  home  last  night,"  Higgins 
began,  "I  wired  Charley  Johnson  to  meet  me 
at  Hanson  Junction  early  this  morning.  I 
caught  a  way-freight  at  six  o'clock  and  found 
him  there  waiting." 

"Then  you  have  n't  been  to  bed  yet?"  Pat 
asked. 


THE  UPSTART  ,  293 

"No,  and  I  'm  not  sleepy,  either.  I  just  got 
back  fifteen  minutes  ago." 

"A  man  's  lucky  that  has  you  to  fight  for 
him." 

"Don't  flatter  yourself,"  Higgins  answered 
lightly.  "My  reputation  as  a  political  mana- 
ger is  at  stake.  I  can't  stand  letting  Wagner 
and  King  Anders  make  a  fool  of  me." 

"Well,  what  happened?" 

"I  told  Johnson  what  the  Anders  gang  had 
done  for  us  and  he  was  tickled." 

"And  sorry  he  could  n't  do  anything  more 
for  us!"  Pat  put  in  bitterly. 

"Not  directly,  he  can't,  but  he  's  willing  to 
be  more  than  decent,  at  that.  We  fixed  up  a 
scheme  between  us.  Both  you  and  Steffens  are 
to  be  called  on  to  speak  to  the  convention. 
You  're  to  speak  last  and  your  speech  is  sup- 
posed to  be  so  blamed  eloquent  that  three  of 
Steffens'  delegates  from  Washington  County 
are  swept  off  their  feet  by  it  and  vote  for  you, 
in  spite  of  everything  that  Johnson  can  do  to 
stop  them." 

Pat  was  smiling  broadly.  Here  was  the  way 
for  which  he  had  been  vainly  groping.  "Can 
he  deliver  the  goods  ? ' ' 


294  .  THE  UPSTART 

"He  could  turn  over  the  whole  twenty  if  he 
wanted  to,"  Higgins  answered,  "but  this  way 
he  can't  be  blamed  and  you  '11  be  nominated 
just  the  same." 

"Higgins,"  said  Pat,  holding  out  his  hand, 
"some  day  I  hope  I  '11  be  able  to  pay  you  for 
this." 

"You  don't  owe  me  anything,  my  boy,"  the 
chairman  answered.  "I  'in  just  playing  the 
game— and  it  is  n't  won  yet,  either!" 

All  that  evening  Higgins,  Tom  Hahn,  Pat 
and  the  rest  were  busy  completing  arrange- 
ments for  the  convention  which  was  to  be  held 
the  next  afternoon.  And  long  into  the  night 
they  sat,  planning  their  tactics  for  the  coming 
day.  Johnson  came  up  from  Allenton  on  a 
late  freight  train  to  report  that  his  arrange- 
ments were  perfected.  He  gave  Higgins  the 
names  of  three  of  his  delegates. 

"They  're  the  chaps  I  'm  not  going  to  be 
able  to  hold  in  line,  after  Mr.  McCormick,  here, 
makes  his  spiel,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"The  Steffens  people  don't  suspect?"  asked 
Higgins. 

"No,"  answered  Johnson,  with  smiling  con- 


THE  UPSTART  295 

tempt.  ' '  Nobody  knows  I  'm  up  here  to-night. 
I  'm  going  back  on  the  freight  at  four  o  'clock 
to  be  ready  to  march  in  with  the  brass  band 
and  the  rest  of  the  boys  at  ten. ' ' 

Tom  Hahn  and  Pat  escorted  Johnson  to  the 
station.  When  they  came  back  to  headquar- 
ters Higgins  looked  at  his  watch. 

"By  George!"  he  said.  "It  's  nearly  five 
o  'clock. ' ' 

' i  Not  much  use  of  going  to  bed  at  all, ' '  said 
Tom  Hahn. 

"Oh,  yes!"  Higgins  insisted.  "Pat  must 
get  some  rest,  somehow.  He  's  got  to  have  all 
his  eloquence  on  tap  to-morrow,  you  know." 

The  three  men  walked  up  Main  Street  to- 
gether. Higgins  turned  off  at  the  corner  above 
the  First  Presbyterian  church.  Tom  and  Pat 
McCormick  went  on,  arm-in-arm. 

"Tom,"  said  Pat,  "I  'm  going  to  owe  you 
fellows  a  mighty  big  bill. ' ' 

' '  We  '11  be  around  to  collect,  all  right, ' '  Tom 
laughed.  "Six  or  eight  of  us  '11  want  the 
Liberty  post-office  to  begin  with." 

"If  I  'm  elected,  all  you  and  Higgins  need 
do  is  ask  for  what  you  want,"  Pat  answered. 


296 

"Elected!  I  wish  I  had  half  as  good  a 
chance  of  getting  to  Heaven.  A  five-minute 
speech  to-morrow  afternoon  and  you  're  It! 
Good-night,  old  man." 

Pat  walked  alone  up  the  long  walk  to  the 
house.  Victory  was  in  his  grasp  and  he  saw  be- 
fore him  a  successful  career  in  Congress— a 
higher  honor  than  he  had  dreamed  of  a  year 
before.  The  painful  memory  of  the  girl  he 
had  so  nearly  won,  and  lost,  only  put  a  fiercer 
determination  into  his  ambition.  Washington ! 
the  great  white  dome  of  the  Capitol !  An  op- 
portunity to  bring  honor  to  a  tarnished  name ! 
No  wonder  he  felt  equal  to  any  possible 
demand  in  the  way  of  a  speech  that  afternoon. 

The  house  was  in  darkness.  He  let  himself 
in  and  slipped  quietly  into  his  own  room  on 
the  ground  floor.  He  would  undress  without 
striking  a  light,  for  fear  of  waking  his  mother 
and  old  Aunt  Bridget.  But  no!  He  could 
not  sleep;  he  would  close  the  doors  and  read 
a  while  before  going  to  bed.  He  lighted  the 
lamp  and  there  on  the  little  table  beside  it  lay 
a  letter. 

He  picked  it  up.    It  was  addressed  in  the 


THE  UPSTART  297 

handwriting  of  Antje.  On  the  instant  there 
rose  before  him  the  trembling  figure  of  the 
girl  as  she  bade  him  go.  He  could  feel  the 
pressure  of  her  lips  upon  his.  All  his  love  for 
her  surged  up  within  him.  He  tore  the  envel- 
ope and  read  the  letter  which  Antje  had  given 
to  Mrs.  Luders  to  mail  the  evening  before  the 
primary  election. 

"I  hope  you  '11  win.  I  'm  sure  you  will!" 
she  had  written.  He  dropped  the  note  on  the 
table  and  clenched  his  hands  upon  it. 

"She  must  care  a  little!"  sang  his  heart. 
"And  I  '11  make  her  care  more!" 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated.  Then  he  but- 
toned her  letter  into  his  coat  pocket,  put  on 
his  hat  and  went  out  into  the  night.  In  the 
east  the  first  blushes  of  the  sunrise  were  begin- 
ning to  brighten  over  the  Anders  farm. 


THE  day  of  the  Congressional  convention 
will  long  be  memorable  in  Liberty  and 
in  all  the  northern  end  of  the  state.  Never 
before  had  a  political  meeting  of  such  impor- 
tance been  held  in  the  county,  and  the  fact  that 
there  was  a  local  candidate  in  the  field  made 
the  convention  of  tremendous  interest  to  all 
Pat's  townspeople.  It  had  been  arranged 
that  special  trains  should  run  from  Washing- 
ton and  Madison  Counties  and  preparations 
were  made  to  receive  the  greatest  crowd  in  the 
history  of  Liberty. 

The  court-house  square  was  the  center  of  ex- 
citement. Across  from  one  corner  of  it  stood 
the  Grand  Opera  House,  on  the  front  of  which 
was  stretched  a  huge  white  cotton  banner, 
bearing,  in  red  letters,  the  legend:  "DEMO- 
CRATIC CONGRESSIONAL  CONVEN- 
TION." Over  the  upper  story  of  the  engine- 
house  hung  another  big  sheet,  with  the  inscrip- 

298 


THE  UPSTART  299 

tion:  "PATRICK  McCORMICK- HEAD- 
QUARTERS." The  managers  of  the  Stef- 
fens  campaign  had  fitted  up  a  similar  room 
nearby.  The  women  of  the  three  different 
church  societies  had  opened  temporary  lunch- 
rooms for  the  visitors  in  as  many  vacant  store- 
buildings  and  their  banners,  also,  flaunted  over 
the  streets.  ' '  A  GOOD  SQUARE  MEAL  FOR 
A  QUARTER,"  read  one  of  them.  And  an- 
other: "PATRONIZE  THE  METHODIST 
LADIES."  The  whole  town  was  dressed  as 
for  some  great  festival. 

It  was  a  still,  scorching  August  day.  By 
7  o'clock  the  farmers  of  the  county,  many  of 
whom  had  started  early  to  escape  the  heat, 
were  beginning  to  arrive,  their  progress 
heralded  by  clouds  of  dust,  kicked  up  by  the 
shambling  feet  of  the  heavy  horses.  It  was  the 
first  chance  that  most  of  them  had  ever  had 
to  participate,  even  as  spectators,  in  anything 
like  national  politics,  and  they  came,  almost 
to  a  man,  within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles. 
They  early  filled  the  livery-stables  with  their 
teams.  Later  comers  hitched  their  horses  in 
unbroken  rows  along  the  racks  which  fringed 


300  THE  UPSTART 

the  court-house  square  and  the  streets  adjoin- 
ing. 

The  men  and  boys,  in  shirt-sleeves,  gathered 
in  groups  on  the  court-house  steps  and  sat  in 
rows  along  the  curb.  Presently  they  filled  the 
grass-plot,  in  the  center  of  which  stood  the 
soldiers'  monument,  and  overflowed  on  to  the 
sidewalks.  The  delegates  from  the  various 
townships  were  the  center  of  attraction  for 
each  group.  Most  of  them  had  not  yet  heard 
of  the  trick  which  King  Anders  had  played  on 
the  Liberty  County  candidate. 

As  that  news  slowly  passed  from  lip  to  lip 
it  roused  heavy  anger  and  resentment.  In  al- 
most every  group  there  was  one  present  who 
had  been  the  victim  of  the  greed  and  cunning 
of  the  King  and  he  was  ready  to  start  the  dis- 
cussion with  a  curse. 

"If  he  beats  old  Liberty  out  of  a  Congress- 
man, he  ought  to  be  tarred  and  feathered!" 
was  the  sentiment,  more  profanely  put,  that 
was  expressed  in  fifty  places. 

Higgins,  Tom  Hahn  and  the  rest  of  the  cam- 
paign managers  had  met  at  Pat's  headquar- 
ters shortly  after  seven  o  'clock. 


THE  UPSTART  301 

"Where  's  Pat?"  Higgins  asked. 

"Oh,  he  did  n't  turn  in  until  after  five,  you 
know,"  Tom  answered. 

"That  's  so.  We  'd  better  let  him  sleep 
awhile.  He  can't  do  much,  anyhow,  this  morn- 
ing." 

About  seven  o'clock,  too,  King  Anders  rode 
into  town,  his  six  sons  in  the  wagon  behind  him. 
He  hitched  his  gray  stallions  before  the  Grand 
Opera  House  and  stalked  up  the  stairs,  with- 
out a  word,  to  the  office  of  Lawyer  Wagner. 
The  crowds  on  the  street  saw  him  and  many  a 
fist  was  shaken  after  his  broad  back. 

An  ugly  feeling  was  developing  all  along 
the  line.  After  breakfast  the  men  of  Liberty 
came  downtown  and  joined  the  impromptu  de- 
bating clubs  along  the  street.  They  added  a 
new  note  of  bitterness,  for  Pat  McCormick 
was  the  idol  of  many  of  them,  and  they  hated 
King  Anders,  almost  to  a  man.  His  attempt 
to  send  Higgins  and  Kramer  to  the  peniten- 
tiary had  never  been  forgiven.  And  his 
treachery  to  Liberty 's  Congressional  candidate 
acted  like  a  strong  wind  on  a  smoldering  fire. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  Silver  Cornet  Band 


302  THE  UPSTART 

swung  into  the  court-house  square  and  struck 
up  "Marching  through  Georgia."  And  the 
crowds  stopped,  thickened  along  the  curb. 

Presently  the  band  turned  into  Main  Street 
and  headed  for  the  railroad  station.  Steffens 
and  his  delegates  from  Madison  County  were 
coming  in  on  a  special  train.  Higgins,  look- 
ing out  of  the  window  at  headquarters,  heard 
the  music  and  saw  the  gathering  crowds. 

' '  Tom, ' '  he  said,  '  *  the  bp.ll  's  open.  You  'd 
better  go  and  wake  up  Pat." 

"All  right,"  Tom  answered.  "I  Ve  got  the 
phaeton  waiting  down  on  the  street." 

In  twenty  minutes  Tom  Hahn  was  back.  He 
rushed  up  the  stairs  to  headquarters  without 
stopping  to  tie  his  horse. 

"By  God!  Higgins,  he  ain't  there!"  he 
cried,  breathlessly.  "The  old  lady  says  he 
did  n't  come  home  all  night." 

"Hush-h!"  whispered  the  chairman,  raising 
a  warning  hand.  ' '  Don 't  talk  so  loud.  Where 
did  you  leave  him  this  morning!" 

"Right  at  his  own  gate.  He  was  almost  at 
the  door  when  I  looked  back."  Tom  Hahn 
leaned  over  the  chairman's  desk  and  spoke  in 
a  whisper. 


THE  UPSTART  303 

"King  Anders  was  up  in  Pat's  office  yes- 
terday morning,"  he  said.  "I  heard  Anders 
threaten  to  kill  him.  Do  you  think — ?" 

"No,"  Higgins  answered,  slowly,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation.  "No,"  he  repeated, 
more  firmly,  as  the  situation  grew  clearer  to 
his  mind.  "You  see  the  King  expects  to  beat 
us  in  the  convention,  so  there  's  no  reason  why 
he  should  want  Pat  out  of  the  way.  But  keep 
it  quiet,  for  the  Lord's  sake!  The  crowd  's 
sore  enough  at  Anders  now.  If  this  gets  out 
there  '11  be  trouble." 

But  word  that  Pat  McCormick  had  disap- 
peared spread  quickly  through  the  crowd,  in 
spite  of  Higgins'  precautions.  His  mother 
and  Aunt  Bridget  alarmed  the  neighborhood 
with  their  inquiries,  within  a  few  minutes  after 
Tom  Hahn  had  called.  In  widening  circles 
the  alarm  spread  and,  within  half  an  hour,  the 
crowds  gathered  about  the  court-house  were 
beginning  to  talk  of  it  in  excited  voices.  Wild 
rumors  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth.  Yesterday, 
it  was  told,  King  Anders  had  called  on  the 
candidate  in  his  office  and  had  threatened  him 
with  death  if  he  did  not  withdraw.  Now  Pat 
was  missing.  Anders  had  kept  his  word. 


304  THE  UPSTART 

"I  'd  like  to  help  string  up  the  old  Dutch- 
man ! ' '  cried  one  gaunt  farmer  in  the  growing 
crowd  about  the  Opera  House  building,  shak- 
ing his  fist  at  the  window  where  the  huge  fig- 
ure of  King  Anders  could  be  seen  standing. 

"You  '11  get  a  chance  if  Pat  don't  show  up 
soon,"  was  the  grim  retort. 

Up  Main  Street  from  the  railroad  station 
came  a  long  procession,  the  band  at  its  head, 
and,  behind  it,  Steffens,  Madison  County's  can- 
didate, and  his  eighteen  delegates,  each  of 
them  wearing  a  big  red  and  gold  badge.  They 
were  followed  by  two  hundred  of  Steffens' 
friends,  who  at  regular  intervals  rent  the  air 
with  staccato  cheers. 

Presently,  with  a  somewhat  milder  blare 
of  trumpets,  Johnson  and  his  twenty  delegates 
arrived  from  Washington  County.  Johnson 
called  first  at  Steffens'  headquarters.  There 
he  heard  the  startling  news  of  Pat's  disap- 
pearance and  hurried  over  to  the  engine-house 
to  see  Higgins. 

"WhaJ;  the  devil  is  this  I  hear,  Higgins!" 
he  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"Well,  Pat  's  gone,  that  's  all  we  know 
about  it. ' ' 


THE  UPSTABT  305 

"The  boys  say  old  Anders  has  made  away 
with  him?" 

"That  don't  sound  reasonable  to  me.  Why, 
the  old  man  expects  to  beat  us  this  afternoon. 
Why  should  he  want  to  get  Pat  out  of  the 
way?" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Get  the  convention  postponed  until  four 
o'clock,  for  one  thing.  If  we  don't  look  out 
we  '11  have  something  worse  than  a  convention 
to  handle." 

"Yes,  they  're  talking  mighty  ugly  on  the 
street  already.  They  '11  be  after  Anders  with 
a  rope  if  the  boy  don't  turn  up." 

It  was  getting  close  to  noon  and  with  the 
passage  of  each  half  hour  the  temper  of  the 
crowd  grew  more  dangerous.  Hundreds  of 
excited  men  were  now  massed  about  the  Grand 
Opera  House.  In  the  center  of  the  crowd  was 
a  big  dry-goods  box  and  from  it  as  from  a 
pulpit,  man  after  man  was  stirring  up  the  mob 
to  violence  against  the  King.  The  concentrated 
hate  of  long  years  flamed  up  into  fury. 

Word  had  early  been  brought  to  Lawyer 
Wagner  of  the  bitter  feeling  which  had  devel- 
oped against  his  client.  As  the  excitement 

20 


306  THE  UPSTART 

grew  more  and  more  intense  and  an  outbreak 
of  violence  seemed  imminent,  the  attorney  lost 
courage.  He  urged  Anders  to  slip  down  the 
back  stairs  and  into  hiding  until  the  clamor 
was  quieted.  But  the  old  King  laughed  at 
him. 

"They  can't  scare  me  yet!"  he  declared. 
"By  Gott!  when  they  come  up  here  by  me 
they  been  sorry  already!" 

In  a  circle  about  him,  like  a  royal  body- 
guard, sat  his  six  great  sons.  Whatever  their 
faults,  they  were  not  afraid  in  this  emergency. 
And,  truly,  the  men  who  attacked  them  would 
have  need  of  all  their  strength  and  courage. 

The  King  even  refused  to  leave  the  window. 
He  stood  there  in  full  sight  of  the  mob  below 
and  glared  down,  as  if  to  defy  them. 

It  was  one  of  Anders'  own  farm-hands— an 
Irishman— who  was  the  first  actively  to  incite 
riot.  He  came  staggering  down  the  street, 
half  a  dozen  wild  comrades  with  him.  Ex- 
citement and  whiskey  had  mastered  them  all. 
He  was  half  lifted  up  to  the  top  of  a  dry-goods 
box. 

' '  There  you  are,  you  ould  divvle ! "  he  cried. 


THE  UPSTAET  307 

pointing  a  drunken,  wavering  finger  at  the 
window  above  him.  ' '  You,  that  I  Ve  seen  beat 
your -own  daughter  wid  a  blacksnake  whip! 
Sure  you  'd  think  no  more  av  cutting  a  man's 
throat,  whin  you  're  mad,  than  I  would  av 
crossing  the  sthreet.  You  know  where  Pat  Mc- 
Cormick  is  this  minute,  ye  sour-faced  old  scut ! 
Come  on,  byes!"  he  screamed,  waving  both 
arms  out  over  the  crowd,  "We  '11  choke  it  out 
av  his  dirthy  black  throat ! ' ' 

Tom  Hahn,  who.  had  been  standing  in  the 
crowd  turned  and  ran  swiftly  to  the  engine- 
house. 

' '  Higgins, ' '  he  cried.  ' '  Hurry  up !  They  '11 
be  stringing  Anders  up  in  a  minute!" 

Higgins  sprang  from  his  seat  and  the  two 
rushed  back  down  the  stairs. 

"We  Ve  got  to  protect  him  somehow," 
gasped  Tom  Hahn  as  he  ran.  But  before  they 
reached  the  crowd  in  front  of  the  Opera  House, 
affairs  had  come  to  a  climax. 

As  the  Irishman  sprang  down  from  his 
perch  on  the  box  an  old  farmer  forced  his  way 
to  the  center,  brandishing  a  long  rope  and  cry- 
ing *  *  Come  on,  boys ! ' '  Instantly  the  mob  be- 


308  THE  UPSTAET 

came  a  wild  beast,  clamoring  with  a  hundred 
savage  voices  for  its  prey.  Men  rushed  and 
fought  each  other  for  entrance  to  the  stairway. 
Suddenly  in  the  doorway  loomed  up  the  spare 
and  determined  form  of  the  Captain. 

"Hold  on,  you  fools!"  he  shrilled.  In  his 
right  hand  he  brandished  his  wooden  leg. 

The  mob  paused  in  wonder.  "Ye  know 
me—  "  he  yelled,  * '  and  ye  know  me  fur  a  friend 
of  Pat  McCormick.  I  know  where  Pat  is  this 
blame  minute  an'  when  the  right  time  comes 
he  '11  pop  up  in  Convention  and  turn  the 
tables  on  that  Dutchman  upstairs.  Now  go- 
wan,  you  fellers,  and  don't  spoil  his  game  for 
him!" 

For  an  instant  the  mob  hesitated  and 
wavered.  The  moment  of  madness  was  over. 
The  excited  men  gazed  at  one  another  with 
foolish  grins. 

"Right  you  are,  Cap!"  bawled  a  voice. 
This  ain't  no  lynchin'  bee.  This  here  's  a 
political  convention ! ' ' 

When  the  Captain  declared  he  knew  Pat's 
whereabouts  there  was,  at  first,  a  murmur  of 
incredulity,  but  there  was  no  doubting  his  ear- 


THE  UPSTART  309 

nestness.  Higgins  and  Tom  Hahn  took  their 
cue  from  him. 

* '  Yes, ' '  they  assured  one  man  after  another, 
as  they  circulated  through  the  crowcl,  * l  we  know 
where  he  is,  all  right,  but  we  can't  tell  now. 
It  would  spoil  all  his  plans.  Just  you  wait  and 
see."  Gradually  the  crowd  melted  away  and 
an  ugly  tragedy  had  been  averted. 

They  found  the  Captain  sitting  down  on  the 
curb  to  adjust  his  wooden  leg  and  took  him 
over  to  headquarters  with  them.  They,  too, 
had  been  half  deceived  by  the  old  man's 
vehement  speech. 

"God  forgive  me  for  a  liar,"  he  said,  in 
answer  to  their  questioning.  "I  don't  know 
where  Pat  is  any  more  than  you  do.  But 
we  've  got  to  get  Anders  out  of  town  before 
that  convention  meets.  I  do  know  that." 


XXX 

WHEN  the  mob  began  to  grow  threatening, 
Lawyer  Wagner  had  fled  from  his  office, 
followed  by  the  sneers  of  the  old  King, 
who  never,  for  a  moment,  relaxed  his  bold 
front.  Wagner  did  not  return  and  when  Hig- 
gins  and  Torn  Hahn  climbed  the  back-stairs  to 
the  Opera  House  block  and  rapped  at  the  door 
of  his  office,  it  was  the  voice  of  King  Anders 
that  roared  permission  for  them  to  enter.  As 
the  King  and  his  sons  saw  the  managers  of 
their  rival  come  into  the  room,  they  rose  as  one 
man  from  their  chairs  and  stood  at  bay. 

"Mr.  Anders,"  he  said,  "we  want  to  talk 
with  you." 

"Well!"  growled  the  old  man,  still  stand- 
ing, surrounded  by  his  giant  guard. 

"You  saw  what  happened  out  there  just 
now, ' '  Higgins  went  on.  * '  We  had  all  we  could 
do  to  keep  the  mob  from  coming  up  here  after 
you  with  a  rope." 

310 


THE  UPSTART  311 

"Let  dem  come!"  said  the  King,  and  his 
boys  moved  a  little  closer  about  him.  "What 
you  think  we  'd  be  doing,  huh?" 

"We  stopped  'em  by  saying  that  we  knew 
where  Pat  McCormick  is.  But  we  don 't  know. 
We  promised  'em  Pat  would  show  up  at  the 
convention.  But  we  don't  know  whether  he  's 
alive  or  dead,  I  tell  you.  We  Ve  come  up  here 
to  ask  you  to  get  out  of  town,  while  you  can. 
If  the  convention  meets  and  Pat  McCormick 
does  n't  appear,  we  can't  answer  for  your 
life!" 

"Go  to  the  devil,  yet!"  said  the  King, 
scornfully.  "You  and  your  gang  can't  scare 
me-!  I  know  your  dirty  tricks,  already.  You 
drive  me  out  of  town  and  then  you  nominate 
that  young  feller  for  Congress,  huh?  What 
for  you  take  me?  Me  and  my  boys,  we  take 
care  of  ourselves,  by  Gott!" 

"Anders,"  said  John  Higgins,  earnestly,  "I 
don't  know  whether  you  had  anything  to  do 
with  Pat  McCormick 's  disappearance  or  not. 
But  if  he  is  n  't  here  when  the  convention  meets 
this  afternoon  there  '11  be  bloodshed  sure,  if 
the  mob  can  lay  hands  on  you.  If  you  '11  go 


312  THE  UPSTART 

and  take  your  boys  with  you,  I  '11  promise 
that  his  name  shall  not  be  presented  to  the  con- 
vention. ' ' 

* '  Aw,  go  talk  to  some  fool,  yet ! ' '  sneered  the 
King.  "I  stay  right  here,  by  damn,  and  this 
afternoon  I  go  by  that  convention.  When  you 
chase  me  home  you  have  to  get  something  more 
but  a  clothes-line  rope  and  a  lot  of  drunk  Irish- 
mans.  You  go  find  that  coward,  Wagner,  and 
scare  him  some  more  yet ! ' ' 

' '  Well, ' '  said  Higgins,  as  he  and  Tom  Hahn 
slipped  down  the  back-stairs,  their  errand  an 
utter  failure,  "there  'a  nothing  to  do  but  to 
postpone  the  convention  as  late  as  possible  and 
hope  for  the  best." 

A  conference  was  held  with  Johnson  of 
Washington  County  and  with  the  manager  of 
the  Steffens  forces  and  presently  a  placard 
was  posted  on  the  front  of  the  Opera  House, 
announcing  that  the  convention  would  not  be 
called  to  order  until  four  o  'clock.  The  delegates 
already  were  impatient  of  idle  waiting.  Some 
of  them  had  been  drinking  and  all  were  ex- 
citedly discussing  the  events  of  the  morning. 
The  shrewder  saw  in  the  announcement  a  part 


THE  UPSTART  313 

of  the  plot  for  the  undoing  of  King  Anders. 
Others  suspected  that  they  had  been  deceived 
and  that  the  managers  were  merely  fighting 
for  time.  They  waited,  sullenly,  for  develop- 
ments. 

Four  o  'clock  came  without  a  word  from  Pat. 
For  more  than  an  hour  a  huge  crowd  had  been 
gathering  about  the  Opera  House. 

' '  There  's  nothing  to  do  but  call  the  conven- 
tion to  order,"  said  Higgins.  "If  we  delay 
any  longer  Hell  will  break  loose.  We  must 
string  out  the  preliminaries  as  long  as  pos- 
sible. Perhaps  some  of  the  boys  '11  get  tired 
and  go  home. ' ' 

Promptly  at  four  o'clock  the  doors  of  the 
Opera  House  were  thrown  open  and  up  the 
wide  stairways  swept  a  torrent  of  excited  men. 
Most  of  them  were  in  their  shirt-sleeves.  They 
were  smoking  pipes  and  cigars  and  carrying 
their  coats  over  their  arms.  They  packed  the 
gallery  until  it  seemed  that  the  pillars  which 
supported  it  must  give  way.  Men  and  boys  sat 
as  close  as  they  could  crowd  into  the  window 
casements  and  stood  in  deep  ranks  about  the 
rear  of  both  the  balcony  and  the  first  floor,  the 


314  THE  UPSTAET 

front  half  of  which  was  roped  off  for  the  dele- 
gates. The  hum  which  filled  the  great  room 
was  like  the  buzzing  of  a  vast  swarm  of  angry 
bees. 

Presently  King  Anders  came,  forcing  his 
way  through  the  crowd  and  closely  followed 
by  his  six  sons  in  single  file.  The  old  man  and 
his  sons  towered  High  above  the  men  who  made 
way  for  them.  It  was  like  the  entrance  of  a 
file  of  giant  grenadiers. 

"Yes,"  answered  Higgins,  when  the  door- 
keeper appealed  to  him,  "I  know  only  two  of 
the  boys  are  delegates,  but  let  'em  all  in.  The 
old  man  's  likely  to  have  more  than  a  political 
fight  on  his  hands  this  afternoon.  We  '11  give 
him  a  fair  show." 

Looking  straight  ahead,  the  seven  big  men 
tramped  across  the  house  and  sat  down  in  the 
front  row  of  seats,  farthest  from  the  door. 
Higgins  felt  an  irresistible  thrill  of  admiration 
at  the  sight. 

"By  George!"  he  said  to  Tom  Hahn. 
' '  They  '.re  a  nervy  lot ! " 

For  a  moment,  the  undaunted  entrance  of 
the  old  man  and  his  sons,  forced  a  respectful 
silence  in  the  packed  body  of  the  house.  Then 


THE  UPSTART  315 

the  angry  buzz  broke  out  again,  louder  than 
before,  but  it  was  promptly  quieted  by  whis- 
pers of  "Wait  and  see  old  Anders  get  the 
razzle-dazzle ! ' ' 

Higgins,  Johnson  and  the  Steffens  man- 
agers held  an  animated  conference  on  the  stage. 
They  realized  that  they  were  holding  a  conven- 
tion of  a  dangerously  explosive  character. 

"For  God's  sake  keep  things  moving  as 
slowly  as  you  can ! ' '  pleaded  Higgins  as  John- 
son rose  to  call  the  house  to  order.  So  John- 
son went  on  to  give  a  complete  history  of  the 
Democratic  party  from  the  time  of  Thomas 
Jefferson  down.  He  reviewed  all  the  follies 
and  mistakes  of  the  Republicans,  and  spoke  at 
length  on  the  administration  of  every  presi- 
dent since  Washington  and  then  started  in  to 
"view  with  alarm"  the  present  condition  of 
the  country.  Finally  the  impatient  galleries 
revolted.  Men  began  to  yell  * '  Time ! "  to  shout 
angry  interruptions  and  to  beat  the  floor  with 
their  heavy  boots. 

"I  '11  have  to  quit,"  said  Johnson  in  an 
aside  to  Higgins.  * '  They  '11  be  throwing  chairs 
in  a  minute." 

So,  as  slowly  as  possible,  the  managers  pro- 


316  THE  UPSTART 

ceeded  with  the  organization  of  the  convention. 
Johnson  was  chosen  permanent  chairman,  two 
secretaries  were  selected  and  a  committee  was 
appointed  to  pass  on  the  credentials  of  the 
delegates.  Then  a  recess  was  proposed  from 
the  floor. 

"No,"  said  Higgins,  below  his  voice,  "we 
dare  n't  do  it.  If  we  don't  keep  them  busy, 
they  '11  start  a  row  in  a  minute.  Call  somebody 
up  to  speak." 

"There  's  Calkins,"  Johnson  whispered 
back.  ' '  He  can  set  his  mouth  to  going  and  go 
way  and  leave  it.  I  '11  call  on  him." 

Calkins  had  been  talking  fully  ten  minutes, 
though  it  seemed  to  Higgins  not  more  than 
one,  when  the  credentials  committee  came  back 
to  report.  The  convention  waited,  in  silence, 
as  the  names  of  the  accredited  delegates  were 
read,  until  Monroe  township  was  reached. 

"Ander  Anders,"  sounded  the  shrill  sing- 
song of  the  reading  clerk.  Hisses  began  to 
break  out  all  over  the  house.  The  crowd  had 
hoped  that  the  old  King  might  not  be  seated. 
"Klaas  Anders."  The  hisses  redoubled,  shot 
through  by  derisive  cat-calls.  *  *  Piet  Anders. ' ' 

"Hurry   up!"   Higgins   whispered   to   the 


THE  UPSTART  317 

chairman.  "Get  things  started  before  things 
break  loose." 

"Nominations  for  Congress  are  now  in  or- 
der," cried  Johnson,  stepping  to  the  front  of 
the  stage.  There  was  an  instant's  silence;  if 
anything  was  going  to  happen,  it  must  happen 
soon. 

A  delegate  from  the  Steffens  County  of 
Madison  jumped  up  on  his  chair.  "Stage! 
Stage!"  shouted  the  galleries.  The  delegates 
in  front  boosted  the  Madison  County  spokes- 
man over  the  footlights.  He  stood  at  the  front 
center  of  the  platform  and  spoke  with  the  con- 
fidence of  assured  victory,  naming  Fred  Stef- 
fens for  the  nomination.  When  he  had  finished 
and  was  climbing  down,  the  Madison  County 
delegation  sprang  to  their  feet,  cheering  and 
throwing  hats  into  the  air.  But  the  rest  of  the 
house  was  strangely  silent. 

"Any  further  nominations?"  asked  the 
chairman.  The  hush  of  the  room  was  accented 
by  the  heavy  breathing  of  a  thousand  excited 
men,  waiting  under  pressure  for  an  expected 
sensation.  Higgins,  his  face  white  and 
strained,  leaned  over  and  whispered  to  Tom 
Hahn. 


318  THE  UPSTART 

1  'Get  up,  Tom,"  he  said,  "and  talk!" 

Never  had  an  orator  a  more  breathlessly 
attentive  audience  and  never  had  an  orator  less 
to  say  than  he. 

"After  him  the  deluge!"  groaned  Higgins. 

* l  Gentlemen  of  the  convention, ' '  Tom  began. 
"My  first  duty — and  I  could  have  none  more 
pleasant— is  to  welcome  you  to  the  county  and 
city  of  Liberty.  I  welcome  you  on  behalf  of  all 
our  people,  but  more  especially  on  behalf  of 
the  loyal  Democrats  of  the  county,  who,  fight- 
ing under  the  same  standard  which  you  so  re- 
cently have  followed  to  victory,  have  just 
elected  their  entire  ticket,  from  Prosecut- 
ing Attorney  to  County  Superintendent  of 
Schools.  More  especially  still  and  with  the 
greatest  possible  pleasure,  I  welcome  you  on 
behalf  of  Liberty  County's  candidate  for  Con- 
gress, whose  name  I  shall  have  the  honor  of 
presenting  to  this  convention. 

"We  of  his  home  town  know  him  too  well 
and  love  him  too  dearly  to  need  a  word  of  in- 
troduction. We  have  known  him  since  the 
years  when  as  a  barefooted  Irish  boy  he  lived 
with  his  parents  in  a  shanty  on  the  mud-flats 
of  Killgrubbin.  His  life  has  been  an  open 


THE  UPSTART  319 

book  to  us  during  all  the  years  since  then.  We 
have  seen  how,  when  his  father  was  killed  in 
battle,  the  boy  gave  up  his  scholarly  ambitions 
and  assumed  the  responsibility  of  head  and 
chief  support  of  the  family.  We  have  been 
moved  by  admiration  for  his  industry  and  his 
perseverance  as  he  studied  law  at  night  and  in 
the  intervals  of  regular  employment,  prepar- 
ing himself  for  admission  to  the  profession, 
which  already  he  honors.  We  have  seen  how, 
with  compelling  eloquence,  he  lead  the  Demo- 
cratic hosts  of  Liberty  County  to  a  sweeping 
victory  last  spring,  himself  coming  in  at  the 
head  of  the  poll,  with  a  majority  unmatched  in 
Illinois.  More  lately,  we  have  listened  with 
pride  and  admiration  as  his  silver  voice  stirred 
the  Democratic  heart  at  Allenton  and  made  his 
name  familiar  to  all  the  people  of  our  state. 
We  point  to  him  as  the  rising  star  of  the  young 
Democracy.  To-day  we  bring  his  name  before 
you,  that  you  may  honor  the  old  Twentieth  dis- 
trict by  honoring  him  with  your  nomination 
for  Congress." 

The  packed  gallery  broke  into  uproarious 
cheers. 

' '  Gentlemen, ' '  Tom  Hahn  went  on,  "  I  thank 


320  THE  UPSTAET 

you  on  behalf  of  Pat  McCormick  for  your  ap- 
plause and  I  venture  also,  in  his  name,  to  urge 
you  to  remember  that  he  would  be  the  last 
to  thank  you  for  any  act  of  discourtesy  to 
those,  who,  well  within  their  legal  rights,  op- 
pose his  political  ambition. 

"There  have  been  those  among  you  who 
have  attempted  to  stir  up  the  mad  spirit  of 
mob  violence ;  who  have  urged  you  to  lawlessly 
take  the  law  into  your  own  hands  and,  with- 
out even  the  shadow  of  proof,  revenge  a  sus- 
pected crime  upon  the  gray  head  of  one  who 
sits  here  to-day  as  a  delegate,  with  as  good  a 
title  to  that  place  as  any  one  among  us  all.  In 
the  name  of  Pat  McCormick,  I  cry  shame  upon 
such  false  friends  of  his.  Were  he  in  this  hall 
he  would  be  the  first  to  rise  in  his  seat  and  re- 
fuse a  nomination  for  Congress,  won  at  such 
a  cost  of  disgrace  and  dishonor  to  his  party,  to 
the  county  of  Liberty  and  the  state  of  Illi- 
nois ! ' ' 

' '  Where  is  Pat  McCormick  1 ' '  cried  an  angry 
voice  from  the  gallery.  An  instant  tumult 
started.  Tom  Hahn  waved  his  hands  for  a 
moment's  silence. 


THE  UPSTART  321 

"You  have  been  promised,"  he  said,  impres- 
sively, "that  before  this  convention  adjourns 
you  shall  hear  from  him." 

"What  in  the  name  of  Heaven  is  that  boy 
going  to  say  next?"  gasped  Johnson. 

"He  had  to  do  it,"  answered  Higgins.  "It 
was  the  only  thing  that  would  keep  them 
quiet. ' ' 

From  the  door  at  the  side  of  the  stage 
stepped  a  small  boy,  wearing  a  blue  cap.  He 
held  up  a  yellow  envelope. 

' '  Here  's  a  telegram  for  Mr.  Hahn, ' '  he  said- 
Tom  Hahn  took  the  message,  tore  the  envelope 
and  read  it,  then  turned  again  to  face  the 
breathless  house,  the  open  telegram  in  his 
hands.  Higgins  and  Johnson  had  started  to 
their  feet.  All  over  the  house  men  were  get- 
ting up.  The  silence  was  tense  with  apprehen- 
sion. 

* '  I  promised  you  that  you  should  hear  from 
Pat  McCormick,"  the  speaker  said,  in  a  low, 
shaken  voice.  "I  shall  keep  my  word.  His 
message  to  us  all  has  just  come." 

It  seemed  to  Higgins  that  Tom  must  be 

about  to  read  a  message  announcing  Pat's 
21 


322  THE  UPSTART 

death,  so  solemn  was  his  manner  and  his  voice. 
From  the  gallery  men  leaned  over,  their  hands 
to  their  ears :  others  stopped  still,  half-way  be- 
tween sitting  and  standing.  The  strain  was 
audible. 

" Chicago,  Illinois,"  Tom  read.  "August 
7th.  Thomas  Hahn,  Grand  Opera  House,  Lib- 
erty, Illinois.  Antje  Anders  and  I  have  just 
been  married.  If  I  have  lost  the  Crown  I 
have  won  the  Princess.  Our  thanks  to  all  my 
friends.  Patrick  McCormick." 

Up  from  a  front  seat  in  the  gallery  rose  a 
wild  yell  of  triumph.  It  was  the  voice  of  the 
captain.  The  delegates  from  Liberty  County 
leaped  to  their  chairs,  as  if  an  explosion  had 
thrown  them  into  the  air.  They  were  cheering, 
laughing  and  slapping  each  other  on  the  back. 
Old  King  Anders  sat  dazed  in  his  seat.  His 
sons  leaned  over  and  whispered  to  him.  He 
rose  to  his  feet  and  shouted  at  Tom  Hahn,  wav- 
ing his  hands  wildly.  What  he  was  saying  was 
lost  in  the  mingled  din  of  cheers  and  derisive 
yells. 

*  *  What  's  the  matter,  King  Anders  ? ' '  bawled 
a  voice  from  above.  ' '  Did  n  't  you  get  a  bid  to 
the  wedding?" 


THE  UPSTART  323 

Some  one  in  the  gallery  started  singing.  A 
hundred  voices  took  it  up,  beating  time  with 
their  feet  against  the  floor  and  railing. 

I  saw  the  steamer  go  'round  the  bend — 
Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye — 
All  loaded  down  with  Anders'  men— 
Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye ! 

The  King,  his  six  sons  in  his  wake,  fought 
his  way  to  the  stage  and  Tom  Hahn  leaned 
over  the  footlights  to  hear  him. 

"It  's  a  damn  lie!"  he  roared.  "Gimme 
that  message  yet ! ' '  Eagerly  he  .  spelled  out 
the  writing  on  the  slip  of  paper,  his  sons  lean- 
ing over  his  shoulders  to  read.  Then  he  con- 
vulsively tore  it  into  bits  and  stamped  them  on 
the  floor. 

"That  's  right!  Dance  at  the  wedding!" 
cried  the  shrill  voice  from  the  gallery. 

The  King  turned  to  face  the  howling,  laugh- 
ing, cheering  mob,  clenching  both  fists  above 
his  head  in  furious  defiance  and  pouring  out  a 
torrent  of  unheard  and  unheeded  curses. 

"Come!  We  see  about  this!"  he  bellowed, 
rushing  for  the  door,  his  sons  surging  after. 


324  THE  UPSTART 

Behind  them  broke  a  fresh  and  triumphant 
pandemonium. 

In  the  hall  outside  Lawyer  Wagner  was 
standing,  afraid  to  go  in,  yet  anxious  to  know 
the  result.  As  Anders  and  his  boys  dashed  by, 
regardless,  he  learned  from  one  of  the  strag- 
glers in  their  train  what  had  taken  place  in- 
side the  Opera  House.  He  hurried  after  them 
and  caught  the  King  by  the  sleeve  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs.  "Don't  go,  Anders,"  he  cried. 
"They  '11  nominate  Pat  McCormick  sure!" 

The  King  shook  him  off  with  a  contemptu- 
ous curse  and  thundered  on  down  the  wide 
stairs,  unheeding.  The  tiny,  alert  young 
woman  who  sat  at  her  table  in  the  telegraph 
office  across  the  street,  pecking  at  the  key  like 
a  bird,  looked  up  in  terror  at  the  entrance  of 
the  band  of  raging  giants. 

"Have  you  a  telegraph  from  Pat  McCor- 
mick got!"  demanded  the  old  man. 

Without  a  word,  the  frightened  girl  handed 
across  the  counter  a  rumpled  bit  of  tissue 
paper. 

Painfully  King  Anders  spelled  it  over. 
Then  he  crushed  the  copy  in  his  hand  and 
threw  it  on  the  floor. 


THE  UPSTART  325 

"It  is  a  trick  yet!"  he  roared.  "It  is  a 
damn  lie !  Come ! "  he  ordered  the  boys.  ' '  We 
go  by  home  and  see  vunce. ' ' 

Higgins,  looking  out  of  a  window,  saw  the 
descent  on  the  telegraph  office.  He  watched 
anxiously,  until  the  King,  followed  by  his  sons, 
charged  out  again  into  the  street  and  across 
to  where  their  team  was  standing.  Then,  as 
the  high-strung  Normans  leaped  forward  in- 
to their  collars,  under  the  old  man's  furious 
lash,  Higgins  turned  and  hurried  back  to  the 
stage. 

1 1  Anders  and  his  boys  have  gone  home, ' '  he 
whispered  to  Chairman  Johnson,  under  cover 
of  the  disorder,  which  still  filled  the  house. 
"Get  the  roll-call  started  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Johnson  beat  on  the  table-top  with  a  heavy 
cane.  "Are  there  any  further  nominations 
for  Congress?"  he  cried,  through  the  din. 

A  sudden  silence,  almost  terrifying  in  its 
contrast  to  the  previous  uproar,  fell  over  the 
convention.  Men  sat  still,  again,  in  strained, 
tense  attitudes,  waiting  for  the  climax. 

"If  there  are  no  more  nominations,"  John- 
son went  on,  "the  clerk  will  please  call  the 
roll." 


326  THE  UPSTART 

* '  Liber-r-ty  Conn-n-ty  f ' ' 

''Liberty  County  casts  twenty-one  votes 
for  Patrick  McCormick!"  answered  Tom 
Hahn,  from  his  place  on  the  floor. 

The  Chairman  of  the  Madison  County 
delegation  leaped  to  his  feet. 

•'I  rise  to  a  point  of  order,"  he  cried. 
"Three  of  the  twenty-one  delegates  from 
Liberty  County  have  left  the  hall.  I  demand 
that  the  delegation  be  polled." 

"I  remind  the  gentleman,"  Tom  Hahn  an- 
swered, "that,  under  the  call  for  this  conven- 
tion, when  any  part  of  a  delegation  is  absent 
the  remainder  is  given  the  right  to  fill  the  va- 
cant places.  This  power  we  have  already  exer- 
cised. Liberty  County  fills  twenty-one  seats 
on  the  floor  of  this  convention  and  it  casts  its 
solid  vote  for  Patrick  McCormick ! ' ' 

' '  The  chair  rules  the  point  well  taken, ' '  said 
Johnson  from  the  stage.  "The  vote  will  be 
so  recorded.  The  roll-call  will  proceed." 

"Madison  County?" 

"Eighteen  votes  for  Frederick  Steffens!" 

"Washington  County?" 

"Ten  votes  for  Patrick  McCormick  and—" 


THE  UPSTART  327 

The  announcement  was  drowned  in  a  thou- 
sand voiced  yell  of  triumph.  Thirty-one  votes 
were  a  majority  of  the  convention.  Steffens, 
standing  on  his  chair,  appealed  for  recogni- 
tion. The  crowd  recognized  him  and  hushed 
into  listening  silence. 

"I  move  that  the  nomination  of  Patrick 
McCormick  be  made  unanimous,"  he  said. 

HALF  an  hour  later  Higgins  and  Tom  Hahn 
jointly  wrote  a  telegram  and  saw  it  off  on  the 
wires  to  Pat  McCormick. 

"The  crown  is  also  yours.  The  convention  sends 
its  unanimous  nomination  as  a  wedding-present  to 
Pat  and  the  Princess." 


XXXI 

THE  unexpected  news  of  his  nomination 
for  Congress  brought  Pat  McCormick 
and  his  bride  quickly  back  to  Liberty.  A  hard 
campaign  was  before  him  and  the  time  was 
short.  Now,  more  than  ever,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  win.  They  drove  directly  to  the  little 
cottage  at  the  head  of  Main  street.  There, 
also,  came  King  Anders,  the  afternoon  of  their 
arrival.  He  tied  his  big  gray  stallions  before 
the  gate  and,  tramping  heavily  up  the  walk, 
beat  upon  the  door  with  the  butt  of  his  black- 
snake  whip.  Aunt  Bridget  opened  to  him. 

"Good  evenin',  sorr,"  the  old  woman  said, 
eyeing  him  with  her  most  martial  aspect. 

"Where  is  my  girl,  yet?"  the  king  de- 
manded. 

11  'T  is  th'  wife  av  Congrissman  McCormick 
yere  wantin'  to  see,  I  dunno?"  Aunt  Bridget 
questioned  aggressively,  her  hands  on  her 
hips. 


328 


THE  UPSTART  329 

"Where  is  Antje  Anders?" 

1  'There  ain't  nobody  be  that  name  stoppin' 
here,  sorr,"  replied  Bridget,  her  nose  high  in 
air.  "Ye  Ve  come  to  th'  wrong  house,  I  'm 
thinkin'.  'T  is  th'  McCormick  fam'ly  lives 
here,  I  'd  have  ye  know. ' ' 

"  I  go  me  in  and  see  yet ! ' '  roared  the  King. 

Then,  just  as  an  Homeric  battle  seemed  cer- 
tain, Antje  herself  came  to  the  door.  She  had 
recognized  the  deep  tones  of  her  father's  voice, 
as  it  was  raised  in  anger  and  hurried  down, 
her  husband  with  her. 

"Here  I  am,  father,"  she  cried. 

"Th'  gintlemin  called  to  offer  ye  his  con- 
gratulations, Mississ  McCormick,"  said  Aunt 
Bridget,  with  a  mock  curtsey  to  the  old  King. 

Then  she  stepped  aside,  still  holding  her- 
self in  reserve,  ready  for  any  sudden  emer- 
gency. The  three  stojod  silent  for  a  moment. 
Shrewdly  and  long  the  little  gray  eyes  of  King 
Anders  searched  his  daughter's  face.  The 
pleading  look  he  saw  there,  did  not  con- 
ceal the  happiness  which  filled  her.  She 
smiled  up  at  him  wistfully  and  in  her  face  was 
a  stray  beam  of  summer  sunshine. 


330  THE  UPSTART 

The  old  man  turned  his  gaze  suddenly  upon 
Pat  McCormick  and  the  look  on  his  face  in- 
stantly hardened.  His  heavy  eye-brows 
dropped  far  down  and  the  muscles  about  his 
mouth  grew  tense.  In  the  background  Aunt 
Bridget  cleared  her  decks  for  action. 

Then,  as  his  rage  rose  to  master  him,  King 
Anders  felt  the  timid  pressure  of  his  daugh- 
ter's hand  upon  his  arm  and  turned  to  face 
her.  She  did  not  speak.  Her  eyes  were  filled 
with  tears  and  on  her  lips  was  still  a  tremu- 
lous, appealing  smile. 

Slowly,  as  he  looked,  his  great  figure 
straightened  itself.  One  could  almost  feel  the 
effort  of  his  tremendous  will  as  it  faced  the 
inevitable  and  choked  to  death  the  vain  pas- 
sion which  struggled  to  rise  within  him. 

"Antje,"  he  said  at  last,  "come  here  once 
yet" 

The  girl,  her  face  all  aglow  with  trium- 
phant tenderness,  crept  closer  to  the  old  man 
and  he  threw  his  great  left  arm  tightly  about 
her.  With  his  right  he  reached  out  and 
clutched  Pat  McCormick 's  hand. 

"You  be  good  by  her !"  he  roared,  the  thun- 


THE  UPSTART  331 

der  of  his  voice  only  half  hiding  the  new  feel- 
ing which  shook  him. 

At  the  sight,  old  Aunt  Bridget,  all  her  fight- 
ing colors  furled,  and  sniffling  vigorously  to 
cover  her  own  emotion,  slipped  her  anchor 
and  came  also  into  port. 

"Misther  Anders,  sorr,"  she  said,  this  time 
with  a  curtsey  of  real  respect,  "I  'm  afther 
beggin'  Yere  Honor's  pardon,  that  I  am. 
Won't  ye  be  steppin'  in  to  have  a  cup  av  tay? 
Sure,  what  have  I  been  thinkin'  av  to  lave  ye 
standin'  out  here  on  the  por-r-ch  all  this 
time?" 

With  a  chorus  of  relieved  laughter  thay  all 
followed  Aunt  Bridget  into  the  little  front 
room.  There  at  the  deal  table,  Antje  sat  by 
her  father's  knees,  her  husband  close  beside 
her,  while  the  old  woman  bustled  about  with 
the  tea  things. 

"  Pretty  soon  already  you  '11  be  going  by 
Congress,  not  so  I "  said  the  King  presently  to 
his  new  son. 

"I  don't  know.  The  Republicans  '11  put  up 
a  hot  fight.  They  'd  go  a  long  way  to  beat 
me." 


332  THE  UPSTART 

"By  damn!"  roared  the  King,  striking  the 
table  a  great  whack  with  his  fist,  "when  they 
try  that,  we  teach  'em  a  few  things  yet,  huh?" 


THE  END 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  It  was  borrowed. 


000118017     3 


